


Undecided*

by Art3mis_s



Category: Dragon Ball, Dragon Ball Z
Genre: Android Saga, Angst, Canon, Cell Saga, F/M, Lemon, Love, Post-Cell Games Saga, Pregnancy, Relationship(s), Smut, Three Year Gap
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-18
Updated: 2018-09-12
Packaged: 2019-06-12 09:07:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 38,211
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15336522
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Art3mis_s/pseuds/Art3mis_s
Summary: The story of Bulma and Vegeta from the time after Namek, picking up on Earth while Vegeta lives with Bulma. Their story of falling in love with each other. Canon. 3 year gap and beyond.





	1. A Reckoning

**Author's Note:**

> *Haven't chosen an official title for this work.  
> New chapters to come. I hope you all enjoy! >_< .  
> Also I'm new to all this, so please be understanding with me while I figure out the details of posting and all the necessary tags. Any advice or polite input would be appreciated. 
> 
> Thank you!
> 
> I do not own Dragon Ball Z, its characters, or its incredible story in any way, shape or form (but I effing wish I did). This privilege belongs to Akira Toriyama. <3

Bulma drummed her perfectly red manicured nails along the shiny metal desk top, one of the many cluttered surfaces in her shiny laboratory. Blue prints and sheets of data read outs that were yards long surrounded her by all sides, the hum of machines around her sent lullabies of science into the air. Leaning back in her swivel chair her arms reached to the sky for a delicious stretch then a deep yawn escaped the blue haired scientists lips.

It was late.  
Actually it was past late.  
Glancing at the clock on the monitor in front of her… 3:36 in the morning. ‘Ugh’ thought Bulma and let out a sigh of resignation, the solution she decided wasn’t going to come to her now, in her and her fathers basement lab, at almost the crack of dawn. Maybe after a decent rest she told herself. Slipping out of her lab coat and hanging it up on the wall by the side of her desk, she turned and made way to the elevators that would lead to the Brief’s upstairs lab. It rested above ground and served as a front for the more secretive and in Bulmas opinion the more interesting projects that her father and her were currently investigating. The deeper basement lab was a secret, only a trusted handful knew about it and even less were permitted entrance. Bulma was almost to the elevators when she remembered her cell phone, it remained resting in the pocket of her lab coat. Groaning she initially debated just leaving it out of exhaustion and a feeling of defeat mixed with apathy. However she turned on heel and retrieved the blasted piece of technology.

The screen indicated that Bulma had indeed missed some activity. 9 missed calls and 14 messages.  
‘Whoa. What’s going on?’ Bulma mumbled to herself. Hoping all her loved ones were safe.

She immediately read the messages, and then realization washed over her like a tidal wave of the iciest water, she struggled to catch her breath. This couldn’t be true. But pictures don’t lie, and now she had 3 separate pictures sent to her from her friend Cleo earlier in the evening of her boyfriend Yamcha with his arm around another girls waist, him feeding her French fries in a booth at a diner Bulma knew of having passed it many times downtown on her way home from the corporate offices, and the last one of him kissing her outside the restaurant, one hand on her ass, the other between her shoulder blades, him clearly leaning into it. Long bright red hair spilled over his arm and down the girls back. Bulma gulped and realized she had been holding her breath, then a sob escaped her, dropping her phone it clattered to the floor as she clamped both hands over her mouth in a weak attempt to hold herself together. She was falling apart and fast. Another sob came and then another and another.

About an hour had passed by the time Bulma peeled herself off the floor of the lab. She re read all the messages and finally deleted them. She was done. Really really done this time. This wasn’t the first time Yamcha had pulled a two timing stunt like this but it was sure as hell the last time he did it to Bulma Briefs. Granted it had been some time since the last incident and she had tried so hard to forgive him and to try and mend the trust again, although it had never again felt completely genuine she admitted. He’d made so many promises, he groveled and begged for her to let him have another chance, Bulma couldn’t help but feel bad for the guy. She wanted to believe him so much. She felt terribly naïve and played now however, and that infuriated her to no end. No one plays Bulma Briefs for a fool. No one.

Punching the UP button on the elevator she waited as the machinery whirred to life and she could hear the mechanics as the vestibule lowered to eventually open the doors and let her in. The ride up was short, and silent. 

The doors opened gently with a small hiss, making her way outside the early morning summer air greeted her and she noticed the beginnings of the sunrise to the east. A few birds chirped in the surrounding trees and the energy was peaceful and calm. It was a beautiful morning she realized. To beautiful to be so upset over Yamcha and his dishonorable ways, she was starting to feel ready to let go, now finally after so many years.

Glancing around the open and spacious compound that was the Brief family’s refuge as began her stroll to the main house, the buildings were circular in structure, dome like. The main house was the largest building and was surrounded by large trees that had soft shady patches of grass underneath them most of the year, a garden with rows of brilliantly colored flowers that her mother had planted were pressing against each other fighting for space. Her mother’s many pets loved to traipse around here on lazy sunny afternoons. Off into the distance now was the above ground lab that Bulma had just left minutes earlier and not so far from that was the GR. A large spherical ship that also doubled as her somewhat permanent house guests training facility due to its superior ability to multiply earth’s gravity by the 100x’s.

The sun was now barely peaking over the wall that surrounded the property making a grand entrance and the sky was awash with bright pinks, pale oranges and golden streaks, dark blue of night slowing giving into the light blue of daytime. Bulma was entranced by the display and paused in her walk back the main house to appreciate the show before her. It almost felt like the sun knew she’d be here and wanted to make it extra beautiful. She sighed, a small smile, it formed on the corners of her lips.

“What could you possibly be doing up this early?” A deep yet calm and cool voice asked behind her.

Bulma already knew who the voice belonged to, but she spared a small glance over her shoulder anyway. Leaning against a tree about 10 feet away was Vegeta. Arms crossed at the chest and one leg bent and it's respective foot resting on the trunk of the tree, a small smirk hiding at the corners of his mouth as well. Ugh, so much for a peaceful sunrise thought Bulma.

“Sheesh Veggie, can’t a girl enjoy a sunrise in peace?”

“Tch” responded Vegeta “I’ve never seen you awake this early, and I highly doubt it’s for the sunrise.”

“Seriously Vegeta what do you care?!” She snapped back while turning around to face him...”Wha..?” She started only to notice the spot where Vegeta once stood was now empty space save the tree. Hmph! Bulma thought, closing her now wordless mouth desperately wishing she had gotten the last word in. She genuinely wondered if he had been enjoying the sunrise too. 

Turning back to face the last of the sun’s grand entrance Bulma felt today was a reckoning of sorts, over her and Yamcha’s long standing and very rocky relationship. She really felt that not a chapter of her life was done, but more like a whole volume. Things were going to change now, Bulma could feel it as much as she could feel the breathe in her lungs. But she could only guess as to what those changes might actually be, and she had a feeling that if she could guess, her best answer would still be wrong. Destiny has a funny way of working out differently than expected.

Bulma walked the last stretch to the house and slipping out of her heels she let herself in through the back door, everything was still emanating the calm that only early morning energy could create. She knew her parents would be up soon enough though. Instead of heading straight to her room she meandered to the kitchen, stomach growling she realized she hadn’t eaten since lunch time yesterday. Skimming the fridge she found nothing to appease her increasing appetite.  
'Hmm' she wondered making her way to the pantry, seeing that her mother had had groceries ordered and delivered yesterday she had a good feeling her favorite pancake and waffle mix would be there. Sure enough there were several unopened boxes on the shelf. Grabbing one and hiding another in the back of the pantry behind the big sacks of rice (so Vegeta wouldn’t get the opportunity to eat them all).

 

Not much later Bulma leaned back into the kitchen chair, she had eaten nearly 10 pancakes and ended by frying up some bacon. Now one hand rested on her fully filled stomach and the other on a cup of jasmine tea. Drinking the last sip Bulma felt sleep winning the battle she had fought all night long.

The clock read 6:08 am and Bulma was more than ready to throw in the towel. Rising from the table she slowly headed upstairs yawning the whole way. Entering her quarters she felt relief wash down her body and spirit at the sight of her bed, she had not fully realized how tense she had been the past couple of hours. Tendrils of sunlight were creeping in past her shutters casting a soft glow to the room. Bulma slipped out of her olive green dress that was perfectly form fitting without being to tight and pulled the curtains closed over the shutters blocking out the gentle sun. She slipped into bed and fell asleep so fast that even Yamcha and her broken heart couldn’t keep her awake with painful thoughts. 

 

Vegeta kicked and punched the air, flipping and tumbling to dodge the attacks that the bots threw at him while simultaneously attempting drills between each energy blast shot at him. Sweat dripped down his brow, at 300x Earths gravity Vegeta was finally getting the challenge he needed. He needed to ascend, to claim his birthright and destiny. A destiny that had been stolen from him by that clown Kakarot and that foolish boy from the future with the ridiculous purple hair. How could he, a simple boy be a super Sayian, he did not even look like a Sayian!! 

Vegeta dodged and array of energy blasts and then shot out a few of his own, accideny destroying 2 of the 6 bots. DAMNIT! Vegeta roared his disapproval and continued his onslaught of heavy loaded energy blasts. Vegeta didn’t understand who the mysterious boy from the future was or how he came to be able to achieve the legendary and this infuriated him to no end. The bots dutifully absorbed the attacks and relayed them back at their host 10x faster and stronger than when they were delivered. Vegeta jumped and evaded all but one which grazed his right arm singeing his armor and giving himself a laceration that extended several inches long and at least one inch deep down his arm.   
Feeling the warm blood begin to flow freely Vegeta hit the big red button that turned the gravity back to Earth’s normal pressure. Panting and sweating Vegeta looked at the monitor and saw he had been going hard non-stop for about 11hours. Finally, and reluctantly, he decided now that his arm was ripped open and he was leaving fat drops of blood everywhere that the time for a break and sustenance was in order. 

He left the GR and the early evening air washed over him, it was cool and clean, smelling faintly of residual sunshine and flowers from Bulma’s mothers garden. Had Vegeta not been in such a serious state of mind he might have appreciated the summer night for its simple beauty, but instead he walked along the path that lead to the main house, all the while leaving the blood trail behind him. He knew that once Bulma saw the mess from the blood there would be no end to her shrill screaming in his face, and frankly Vegeta had better things to do than listen to the woman yell, scream, and lecture. So instead of using the back door which was the shortest route to food he flew up to his room balcony, landing with a soft touch. Not caring for any of his clothes that the Briefs had provided him, his thoughts flashing back to that god awful pink shirt, he walked inside and opened a drawer grabbing two white t shirts that he had never bothered to wear before and hastily tried to staunch the bleeding. He turned around and saw he had left bloody boot prints all the way from the balcony to where he stood.

‘Hmm must be losing more blood than I thought’ figured Vegeta as he assessed himself. Fuck it, he needed to go the bathroom and stitch himself up, and with that thought he left the room and headed down the hallway.

 

Bulma slowly pushed herself up from her stomach with one hand rubbing her sleep heavy eyes with the other. She yawned and looked to her bed stand, the clock reading 6:08 pm. ‘Damn did I really slept that hard for 11hours’ she mumbled to herself as she slid her legs from the bed and stood. Her stomach growled, ‘hungry again’ she mused to herself, sometimes she wondered if she would qualify for a Sayian just on her appetite alone. 

Suddenly, then, reality came rushing back to her and she remembered now about last night, or was it this morning? Yamcha…he betrayed her again…heart sinking she sat back down on the bed. The overwhelming sensation of letting this completely engulf her was almost to much, she was close to tears again, but forced herself to stop, she gripped the side of the bed with both hands and forced herself to calm down, closing her eyes and taking deep slow breaths. After a couple of minutes she felt the tension leave her body, less like she was standing on the edge of a cliff and more open to fact that this may be okay. 

She reached over to the bed stand and grabbed her phone. More missed calls, primarily from Cleo with frantic, worried, ‘I’m going to kill him for you’ friend messages attached to them. Two missed calls from Yamcha and one text message from him saying a simple ‘love ya babe’. She immediately responded to Cleo letting her know she was doing okay and that they should see each other soon, and that she appreciated her friends bold and brave honesty. Then proceeded to clear her entire call history and message history but only after blocking Yamcha’s number, wishing that she could forget it entirely and permanently. 

Now, a shower she decided would be fantastic and she knew it would help her feel better. Entering her lavish closet, that was almost the same size as her room, she slipped out of her underwear thinking that in her exhausted state earlier she didn’t blame herself for forgetting to undress completely. She grabbed her silk kimono style robe and laced the belt lightly around her nakedness and hourglass hips, she turned to the mirror and pulled her hair from the bun it had been in for now almost a day and the thick soft blue hair fell in waves down her shoulders, thinking to herself about how her hair is the longest it’s been since she was a teen girl. ‘Perhaps your ready for a change?’ she silently asked herself into the mirror tilting her head to the side slightly. Despite all the grief Bulma was feeling she looked very fresh. Her skin was lightly a glow and her blue eyes still bright. Satisfied that she was beautiful even in the midst of turmoil she stepped away from the mirror and headed down the hallway to the bathroom.


	2. Clever Girl

En route to the bathroom Bulma began to approach Vegeta’s room which was just down the hall from her and immediately noticed the obvious pools and foot prints of blood trailing down the hallway to what was unknowingly their mutual destination. Her jaw dropped and she rushed to the bathroom to see if her house guest was even still alive. 

Blowing the door to the bathroom open at almost a full out run Bulma’s eyes met Vegeta’s form slumped in the bathtub, back against the wall of the tub and feet and legs hanging over the opposite side, his right arm cradled to him as his left clumsily tried to thread up the gaping slash that ran from his elbow to upper bicep. His face pale in comparison to his normally olive toned hue. Bulma’s first immediate reaction was to grab her toothbrush and get into the large blood puddled tub with him.

“Woman! What the fuck do you think your doing?!” Vegeta asked with a almost relaxed but definitely husky annoyance at being interrupted in the state he was in. 

Ignoring Vegeta’s question she kneeled next to him and gracefully undid the belt of her silk kimono while simultaneously wrapping both sides of the robe tighter around her so the fabric still hid what it needed to. She then fumbled with the belt wrapping it around his upper arm twice and lacing the toothbrush into a delicately placed knot making a mcgivered tourniquet. She twisted the toothbrush causing the fabric to tighten, she kept twisting the toothbrush until the silk was stretching ferociously around Vegeta’s upper arm. The fabric threatening to burst under his raging bicep...a bicep that still raged even when relaxed and bleeding everywhere. Bulma's end game however was a successful constricting and compression of his venous blood flow ultimately reducing blood loss drastically. Vegeta’s glanced from Bulma’s face to his arm and chuckled softly, “Clever girl.”

“Hold this.” Was all Bulma said and motioned with her eyes to the toothbrush tourniquet. 

Surprisingly, and obediently Vegeta let go of the needle and thread letting it drop to land on his thigh, and reached over to hold the damn in place. Then Bulma still kneeling turned around and rinsed and throughly washed her hands and forearms in the tub faucet, after drying them on a nearby towel she herself now reached for the needle, brushing Vegeta's thigh with her fingers tips. He shivered, but she just figured it was from the blood loss. 

Re threading it with fresh stitching she began her work. She worked silently for several minutes then she asked “What happened this time?” and when no response came she looked up at Vegeta who’s eyes were closed and who almost looked relaxed, ‘Wait! Has he died?!’ Bulma thought frantically. She had never seen him looking relaxed before or even a moment when his guard was even the slightest bit down! "Vegeta!"she squealed and in a not so well thought out plan and also in a desperate attempt to pull him back from the grip of death she reached out and half slapped his face.

“WHAT THE HELL WOMAN!!” He roared  
“ I THOUGHT YOU WERE DEAD! OR ABOUT TO DIE YOU BIG STUPID MONKEY” Bulma yelled back. 

 

Vegeta’s just stared at the incredulous woman before him and then no longer being able to contain himself he broke into a open mouthed belly laugh.  
“Me? Prince of all Sayians die from a small wound like this?” The laughter continued,  
“Foolish woman, you no nothing of the boundless strength and power that is a Sayian warrior. Now finish this up, I grow impatient.”

Rolling her eyes Bulma continued the delicate work of a fine suture. “You didn’t answer my question.”

“You mean what happened?” Vegeta hated discussing this topic with a weak earthling, as if they could ever understand the nature of his training, the degree of discipline and constant focus it required. “A bot malfunctioned, fired off after it was supposed to be shut down” he lied coolly.

“Hmm, that’s super interesting, I should definitely take a look, that shouldn’t be happening obviously” Bulma said.

“I destroyed two of them” said Vegeta attempting to change the subject somewhat.

“Ahh gosh Vegeta! Really! Geez I just made those, man you sure are rough on the hardwear.”

“You will be thanking me once this miserable back water planet of yours is safe again.”

“You are probably right, but where are you going to go though? After you beat the Androids I mean. Isn’t Earth kinda your home now too? I think it would be nice if it was.” Bulma said the last part softly not even realizing she was going to say it until it came floating out her mouth. 

She glanced at Vegeta their eyes catching the others, he had a peculiar look on his face, another one she hadn’t seen before tonight. Curiosity maybe? Maybe just indifference instead of pure hate? Not being fully sure, she chalked it up to the facts that maybe he just wasn’t scowling for once. She gave him a small smile simply because she didn’t know what else to do. It was quite for a moment when Vegeta continued their conversation.

“I have not made a choice yet about what I will do after I defeat the Androids and claim my position as the strongest in the Galaxy. It is most likely I will leave this excuse of a rock.”

Bulma gave another small smile and looked up at Vegeta thru her lashes, “Makes sense,” she said “you’ll be so strong by then, probably stronger then Goku with how hard you train. Won’t be anything left for you here....expect maybe the fact the last two of your species is here.” Bulma didn’t look at Vegeta when she said this, nor however did she say it in demeaning or intentionally hurtful way, but more like stating fact, the way a scientist reads off data. Just, it is what it is.

Leaning back Bulma clipped the remaining unused stitching with a pair of scissors. “Okay, your all done, you’ll be good as new in no time.”

Vegeta already had most of his color returning to his face. This helped to settle Bulma’s already fried nerves ‘those Sayins, they sure heal fast' Bulma thought to herself. Then randomly she was feeling exposed for some reason and looked to Vegeta who was blatantly and unashamedly looking at her chest, immediately Bulma looked down to see she was giving Vegeta quite the show, her breasts where almost fully exposed, their fullness barely covered by the thin silk fabric, which now was somewhat generously covered in blood.  
His blood.  
Another small smile played at the corners of his lips.

“Sheesh Vegeta, I know you think I’m beautiful but at least try not to make it so obvious.” Bulma said pulling the robe tightly closed again, the heat of a deep blush rushing to her cheeks. Eyes narrowing she stood up and pointed to the door of the bathroom, “Now mister Prince of All Sayians I need a shower and stat, you can find a different bathroom I’m using this one. Bulma stood up careful not to let anymore of herself accidentally show and slowly moved out of the tub not wanting to slip on the blood.

“Well what are you waiting for!?” Bulma’s embarrassment showing thru, heat rising from her cheeks in a warm blush. She stomped to the door and threw it open. Vegeta stood on somewhat shaky legs and pulled himself from the tub. Bulma couldn’t help but notice how handsome he looked half naked and bloodstained, all fixed up because of her. Now she was feeling heat somewhere else other than her cheeks. Vegeta eventually reached her in the door frame his face entirely composed, he leaned in deep resting his good arm on the door frame above Bulma’s head, his face but inches from hers.

“Tch. What silly stupid thoughts you have sometimes, to think that I could ever enjoy the sight of weak earthing such as yourself.” His words spoken so softly that if it wasn’t for the meaning of the words themselves one would think he was sharing endearments with the blue haired scientist. Then he was gone, even when injured he could still move fast enough to disappear into nothing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was a short one, hopefully it was still enjoyable. :)


	3. It's Just Whiskey and Ice Cream

Why couldn’t the woman make superior bots to keep up with him. His progress was moving so fast he was demolishing bots by the wagon load every couple of days now. It had been almost two weeks since Bulma and Vegeta’s game of doctor and patient. In the beginning he had missed 2 days worth of training as he waited for his right arm to heal. His returned energy attack had ripped deeper into his flesh than he’d originally thought, he was realizing he was going to need more time for the muscles, tendons, and nerves to repair themselves, more time than he was willing to spare. 

He flew to Korin’s tower the morning of day 3 and threatened the white cat until he procured a small bag of the priceless Senzu beans. Selfishly munching one on the flight back to Capsule Corp, he was ready to train fully and harder than ever before by the time he landed. And that’s exactly what the prince did, everyday, 15hours a day since his ‘forced vacation’. Occasionally the woman would sneak into his thoughts while he trained, the image of her soft creamy skin beneath her blood stained robe. The roundness of her breasts and the outline of her pert nipples under silk, it was such a fucking distraction. Vegeta hated it. 

He avoided her now most of the time, not fully understanding why either, only knowing that he felt frustrated and could tell she was most likely the reason why. Despite all she showed him, he could never see Bulma as more than a weak and loud earth woman…or could he? Was he already? He kept hearing Bulma’s words over again in his mind that it would be nice if Earth became his home, he struggled to understand what that could possibly mean. Nice for who? Her? But why? And more importantly why did he even care?

“FUUUUCCCCKKKK” Vegeta roared his voice ripping schisms into the air around him, his energy shot through the roof, why was she in his head at all? He then began to shoot blast after blast while using a voice command to activate all bots simultaneously. Suddenly 20 different panels opened up at random along the walls of the ship releasing into the GR’s inner chamber bots of all shapes, sizes, mechanics, and calibers of attack. Then there commenced a full blown spectacle of explosions, while Vegeta dodged and rebuttaled attack after attack while the bots dutifully absorbed his blasts only to hurl them back at him ten fold. Finally after 30 grueling minutes the program he activated with the voice command ceased and the remaining surviving bots floated back into the walls from the panels they had originally come from. Several lay on the GR floor twitching and sparking with their inner wires ripped and splayed at odd angels. Panting heavily he and powered down the GR. His mind still felt thick with distractions, he ran his hand thru his coarse hair and decided he would pause for now to find food. It was dark outside, almost 10 o’clock he assumed, scanning the Briefs home he located the woman’s ki, she was in the kitchen. Perfect timing he thought with a smirk, she could make him some food. 

 

Bulma had had a relatively quite two weeks after the incident in the bathtub. Spending a majority of her days holed up in the basement lab still looking for the missing link in her new Systematic Data Telelocator, which would not only transmit mass amounts of information and code over vast distances of space it would monitor trajectories and all the best possible routes while simultaneously coordinating with other passing ships all via her lab located on Earth. Admittedly tho, she wasn’t all work and no play, she did spend about an hour a day bikini clad lazily reading science magazine articles (and the occasional celebrity gossip magazine) next to the pool. Then the break would end and she would head back 10 floors underground like a vampire hiding from the very sun that she could still feel on her cheeks to resume her work. Yamcha’s number was still blocked in her phone so she wasn’t receiving calls or messages from him, and she surprisingly was less and less bothered by this as each day passed. He did try to call several times the first week on the main house’s phone but Bulma had laid down strict instructions that no one was allowed to have him talk to her, under any circumstance. Having not told her parents the reason for this sudden freezing out of Yamcha (they assumed it was again for a similar transgression he had displayed in the past) they dutifully but confusedly obliged her, Vegeta never answered the phone, so no issue there. The calls stopped soon after, Yamcha, Bulma assumed had gotten the hint that he was undoubtedly in hot water, but Bulma ultimately knew that Yamcha would never and perhaps could never put up a good fight, especially in the circumstance of losing her. Vegeta however resumed his normal demeanor of solitude and pushing himself to the verge of death in training. She felt she hardly saw him at all nowadays, and she had a nagging feeling that it was on purpose.

 

It was a Tuesday night and a quarter past 10pm. Bulma sat at the kitchen table yellow highlighter in one hand, a cup of steaming tea to her left, hair in a messy bun and she was clad in a pair of short cut off jean shorts with a white cropped long sleeve top, the nights were getting warmer and the need for so much clothing felt less tolerable. The kitchen window open behind her and a gentle breeze lightly played with any loose tendrils of her hair. A thick science magazine lay open in front of her and she was heavily focused on whatever the article said occasionally highlighting a word, sentence, or paragraph, stopping to re read sections again for further clarification. Feeling fully absorbed in her activity she didn’t notice a certain Sayian prince stride into the kitchen. Only when a solid olive hued hand slammed on the table near her did she look up with a start.

“Vegeta! Kami you scared the crap out of me!” Bulma exclaimed.

“Perhaps I wouldn’t have to be so abrupt if your weak earth senses were actually in tune to your surroundings. Make me food woman, I am beyond famished.” He sat down diagonally from her with a soft thud.

“Hmph! Ever heard of a little word called PLEASE?” She retorted.

“ Heard of it? Yes. Having to actually ever use it? No.” He said with a simple finality folding his hands together in front of him with a ‘what are you waiting for?’ look on his face.

“Fine Vegeta! But only because I’m hungry too, this is definitely not for you, consider it an undeserved favor that I’m going to share WITH you.” She said emphasizing the last two words as she capped her marker and stood up.

Vegeta’s eyes traveled (without Bulma noticing) as she walked from the table to the explore the fridge, first resting on her face then to her full bosom, to her small waist that was unhidden by the fabric of her small tight top, down her long cream colored legs. His breath catching against his mental will, he felt his body responding to the woman’s but his mind was screaming NO, screaming at his body that she was a simple stupid Earthling. And weak to boot. Yet, his body urged him to move closer, so of course he sat extra still, stubborn-ness pervading his every fiber. He watched in silence as Bulma began pulling containers of food from the Briefs ginormous fridge, a combination of left overs and food that was pre prepped in mass quantities for the Sayian himself. She went to the pantry and grabbed a bag of white sticky rice, (Vegeta’s favorite) and began to put everything into motion.

Fortunately it was actually a relatively easy task, the 4 rice cookers would be done in 30minutes and the 3 ovens the Briefs helping staff operated during the day could hold a lot of food at once, Bulma filled each with various items to be re-heated. Once everything was as it should be they just had nothing left but time, 30minutes of time that Bulma had no idea how to fill with the Sayian Prince. Impulsively she headed back into the pantry and emerged with a glass container that held a dark brown liquid and two small glasses. Placing them lightly on the table Bulma slide into her seat opposite of Vegeta raised an eyebrow and asked “Want to drink? We have some time to kill before the food is ready.”

“Tch.” Vegeta responded crossing his arms and looking away.

“Hey mister bad attitude, it’s not my fault you skipped dinner time again! For the 10th consecutive night in a row if I might add. What’s your deal lately anyway?” Bulma poured two rocks glasses generously full of the brown substance and slide one across the varnished wood table where it softly stopped several inches in front of the prince.

“Cmon, it’s just whiskey, it’s not like it’s liquid Frieza in a glass.” She joked with him catching his eye.

Sensing the small challenge in her words Vegeta picked up the glass and downed the entire thing in one open throated swallow all the while maintaining eye contact with the woman, then sliding the glass back across the table to her. Challenge accepted, and challenge overcome. 

“Me too, my Prince, me too.” She responded suggestively raising her glass as if in a cheers, however not for a moment breaking eye contact with him she mimicked his actions by downing the entire glass in one go. Vegeta felt heat rising in him in way he hadn’t ever felt before. Perhaps it was the drink, but he felt it after she said ‘my Prince’, it felt like a heavy rush, he couldn’t decide if he liked it our not. He didn’t know it at that moment but he eventually realized that those words wouldn’t leave his mind for a long time. 

Several long minutes passed in silence. Pouring each another glass, and again making it another generous pour for both, Bulma slide his glass back to him. Vegeta reached out and scooped up the glass before it even had the chance to settle and gracefully threw the substance back without hesitation, a warm feeling pooling in his belly. He wasn’t going to lie, he was beginning to feel different, a little less tense, even possibly comfortable. Which was a odd and foreign feeling for him, but even more surprisingly he wasn’t ready for it to go away. 

Not skipping a beat, Bulma swigged half her glass and asked “What was planet Vegeta like? Do you remember it?”  
“Of course I do. It was far superior to this planet in every way. The mountains bigger, the canyons more vast, cities built in the most mesmerizing way, built to complement their natural surroundings and not destroy them. Technology was advanced and there was abundance for all.” He said with pride lacing around every word.

Bulma knew how the Sayians acquired their ‘abundance and technology’, through conquering and decimating entire civilizations and even sometimes entire planets of their inhabitants. Swallowing back the other half of her drink she stifled a chill that ran through her.

“I’m sure you miss it.” She said with her fingers gently wrapping around the now empty glass. “I’m glad though, that you’re here now. I know the alternative of you being home with your kind is a far more tempting place, but I’m happy you’re here now, I’m already grateful for you.” The whiskey clearly having its way with Bulma’s words. She knew she spoke the truth, however she just never expected to actually tell the already egotistical prince this, ever. She followed the statement with a genuine smile, hoping to send the point home that she wasn’t playing around on this subject.  
Vegeta sat stunned at her words, but his facial expression gave nothing away, without putting to much thought into it he somewhat realized that no one had spoken so nicely to him in a very, very long time. It would seem to his recollection, since his mother. “I want another.” He motioned to the brown drink near Bulma’s elbow.

“Here you can just have it, I don’t have the best tolerance anyway so I’m done.” Bulma passed the bottle across the table. Vegeta unscrewed the cap and abandoned the glass taking a long swig from the source. Him hoping that the warmth the drink gave could spread to every part of him, physical and otherwise. Bulma raised her eyebrows in slight amusement, did Sayians have a high tolerance to alcohol? It would seem so, not surprising she thought, they seem to have a high tolerance to literally everything else already. Vegeta put the bottle back on the table with now more than half missing. Bulma’s hair felt tight and pulling in the bun it was in so she decided to let it down, simultaneously Vegeta happen to glance at her as she did this simple action. Caught off guard he couldn’t look away, and he enjoyed the whole moment more than he wanted to admit to himself, the way her hair cascaded down to her shoulders, the way it enhanced the frame of her face, and the smell, God THE smell. Was it always this intoxicating? Did it always smell like pears, sunshine, and magnolias? Suddenly and loudly a long drawn out beep signaled the food was done and effectively broke what ever spell Vegeta had found himself under.

Bulma busied herself around the kitchen and eventually had everything out on the table, with the biggest bowl they had placed in front of him. Sitting down with Vegeta she noticed he had waited for her to be ready before starting to serve himself. A small smile formed at Bulma’s lips as she thought to herself that maybe he was well mannered…kinda…sometimes, maybe.

“Did you have a good day?” Bulma asked lightly munching on a egg roll. 

“What the serious fucking hell woman? What is it with all the questions tonight? Don’t you have a mate you can ask all this nonsense too?” Annoyance rolling across his features, he was hungry, he just wanted food now that it was in front of him steaming hot, smelling like heaven, and in insane quantities.  
Bulma rolled her eyes at this extremely predictable response and didn’t bother with a reply, she ate her modest 3 plates in silence and Vegeta bulldozed through the remainders. Not feeling the idea of having to clean up a miniature feast she walked to the wall and punched in a code on the small monitor keyboard. Seconds later two bots came up through the floor and began the overwhelming job it would be for a regular person to clean up after a Sayian.

 

Almost completely satisfied but not quite Bulma walked to the freezer and grabbed a carton of ice cream followed by a bowl, and a spoon placing them on the counter. Then she attempted to scoop out the seriously frozen hard ice cream.

“Yamcha and I broke up. I mean, I broke up with him. No mate for me I guess. Him and I…well it’s over for good let’s just say.” She said between stabs at the rock that was pretending to be ice cream.

Vegeta was just finishing his last bowl of food and looked up at this remark, noticed the small woman’s struggle, and maybe it was the whiskey (although admittedly he hadn’t been feeling the effects of the liquid since his second heaping portion of food), maybe it was something else, but Vegeta didn’t think to hard about it, standing he walked over to Bulma. Taking the spoon from her without asking he scooped the ice cream out like it was soft butter, filling the bowl. He then turned and looked at her, making eye contact and both of them feeling the small distance, basically just a bowl of ice cream between them. He could smell her again, he closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. When he opened his eyes she was staring directly at them, big blue eyes against his jet black.

“He was beneath you anyway, a coward, a weakling. Even weaker than you I’d say.”

Now it was Bulma’s turn to be stunned, except her expression absolutely showed it. Did Vegeta just semi compliment her while also semi approving of her decision to let Yamcha go? 

‘Wow’ thought Bulma, ‘perhaps there is more to you than your hard exterior Vegeta’.

He handed her the bowl of ice cream but stole the spoon and the rest of the carton as he walked out of the kitchen without another word. It was the best bowl of ice cream Bulma had ever eaten.


	4. What Dreams May Come

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Got the suggestion to work on my spacing. So I definitely tried to make things less chunky in terms of text blocks. I'll revise and edit the previous chapters to hopefully create more of a flow while reading for you guys.
> 
> Thank you all again! 
> 
> Once again, I do not own Dragon Ball Z. At all. *sigh*

It was all dark when he let himself through the back door except for the glow of the tv coming from the sitting area down the hall. Sensing ki he already knew it was Bulma. Following an invisible tug that came from somewhere deep in his stomach he casually but silently walked in the room, Bulma was curled up on the couch practically invisable her body completely tucked under a beige fuzzy blanket looking positively terrified. Vegeta stole a glance at the screen, a gruesome scene unfolded before him of a man with a strange brown mask slicing up some people with a chainsaw, there was lots of screaming and even more blood. 

“I could easily conquer this asshole.” Vegeta stated matter-of-factly.  
Bulma turned around with a start realizing for the first time he was standing by her. 

“Sheesh Vegeta, your always doing that!”  
“I stand by my earlier statement.” He said, then while momentarily contemplating whether to go or to stay and watch this oddly pleasing recording of some man conquering the people of whichever planet that was with his odd weapon when Bulma suddenly blurted out that she really wanted him to stay and that the movie was ‘scary’. 

“Please Vegeta! Pretty please!” She begged hands in prayer over her heart, blue eyes penetrating and connecting with his, he felt the warm pooling sensation in belly again and found himself moving to sit next to the blue haired scientist. 

The next hour consisted of a lot of blood, which Vegeta found quite refreshing actually while Bulma made gasping and gagging noises when something especially heinous happened, hiding behind her fingers for half of everything. Then the movie ended, and credits rolled, Bulma clapped her hands twice and a dim set of lights came on to put the room in a relaxing sublime atmosphere. 

“That wasn’t as awful as most of the things on this boring planet.” Vegeta remarked still in a reclined position feet up on the ottoman.  
“Yea you would like that stuff, it would make sense that scary movies would be in your taste.” said Bulma throwing off the blanket and turning to face the Sayian prince.  
“Do you mean to say you think I’m scary?” asked Vegeta sitting up mirroring Bulma’s body language.  
“Mm yes in the beginning, but much less now, not really at all now actually.” said Bulma softly, almost not meeting his eyes.  
“You should be. I’m incredibly dangerous.”  
“You won’t hurt me, I..I..I know it.” Fumbled Bulma. 

“Do you though? You really know very little about me.” He was abruptly leaning in even close now. He started speaking more and more softly with each passing word, like he was reciting a lullaby to a toddler. Not breaking eye contact despite the topic of conversation, in fact Bulma felt transfixed by the Prince. What was going on? Why was he so close?  
“I could end your life before you could blink, your family before you could finish a scream. I could unfold a world of nightmare around you.” He whispered.

 

Their faces were so close now Bulma felt his breath, she could smell his skin, it was like cedar, a smokey vanilla, and what she could only imagine was pure power emanating from deep within him. Then a large warm hand cupped her cheek, softer than she ever expected it to be. Before her mind could wrap around the fact that Vegeta was actually touching her, his lips were on hers. Those were also so much softer than she could of imagined. He began to move his lips and Bulma moved with him. His tongue asked for entrance and Bulma didn’t hesitate letting him in. Once inside her mouth Vegeta’s whole demeanor changed, the kisses became more intense, his hand moved from cheek to hair and he pulled her in to him harder.

Bulma was in sensory overload for sure at this point. Every touch from Vegeta was sending electric waves through her body, her heated center rapidly getting warmer and wetter in equal measure to what felt like a million butterfly’s coming out of their cocoons for the first time in her stomach. Vegeta’s other hand traveled to Bulma’s waist, squeezing. She shivered in response to the additional contact and a small moan escaped her lips and fell into Vegeta’s mouth. He must have liked this because he leaned so far into her in response that she was now laying on her back and he was over her holding himself up taking the majority of his weight on his forearms kissing her heavily. Then Vegeta’s hand went under her top and started sweeping across her belly, skin to skin, working its way slowly up her body. 

He knew where he was headed, was he ready for this? Did he even want his? The feeling in the pit of his stomach really really wanted this. Although he had his silent hesitantions, Vegeta’s hand found its target nonetheless, immediately cupping her full firm breast, he began to knead and massage, pulling on her nipples and pinching them hard.

Bulma couldn't help it, her mouth broke away from the princes while little moans came out like a water fall. She pressed her hips into his very obvious erection, he was hard, more than she ever considered possible for a man and it seemed from the feel of things that he was packing quite a bit. He began rubbing against her in a thrusting like motion and her hips worked to compliment his movements in a way that showed she would most likely beg for it at this point. Bulma certainly seemed to want more, her body couldn’t lie, what ever Vegeta was doing to her it was a heady spell. Bringing her face back to his Vegeta continued the kiss then a quick jerking motion and a ripping noise came abruptly through her moans and his growls and Vegeta felt the direct heat of her body on his chest while he hovered over her. He had ripped her shirt clean off. 'Whoa smooth moves mister' said Bulma’s expression.

“You want me, badly, I can smell it all over you.” He said huskily. 

“Do you want me Vegeta?” Bulma cooed out the question. 

A deep “Mmm” that was almost a growl was his simple response. 

Vegeta pulled back separating his perfect body from hers so that he was standing on his knees, each leg to one side of her hips, he took off his shirt first and then pulled his training shorts down revealing himself fully to her. Bulma opened and closed her mouth, words failing her, oxygen suddenly was hard to find. Like a god, his skin was olive toned all over and covered in scars from his victories, his muscles taut, smooth, and most definitely firm, there was not a part of his body that wasn’t muscle, perfect, perfect muscle.

Bulma sucked in breathe when she saw him in such a way. She hoped she would never have to blink again if this was going to be her view. Then it must have been her turn because Vegeta without a seconds hesitation ripped Bulma’s shorts off. Hmm her wardrobe may be in trouble with this guy she thought. He smiled at the prize he claimed for himself beneath him. He couldn’t fight it anymore, she WAS beautiful, possibly the most perfect creature he had ever seen. Hating to admit such a defeat his black eyes caught her big blue ones in a vice grip keeping them locked on her. He brought his hand to his mouth sucking on his first and middle fingers until they were moist and wet with his spit and then without even the slightest hesitation he inserted them fully into Bulma’s own wetness. Her eyes fluttered closed as her back arched up, her hips pressing back into his fingers penetrating caress. To Vegeta's viewing pleasure her plump lips that were still swollen and red from his hard kisses parted into an perfect ‘O’. 

He excitedly began a smooth and rhythmic motion of his fingers pumping into her. His erection was standing, raging, and strong, ready to over take her while he steadly teased her with his is thick strong fingers.  
Bulma liked this and didn’t bother hiding it, finally wanting, no needing to touch him, she reached out and placed her small hand around his raging hard dick. His head rolled back and long deep groan bubbled up from his throats to his mouth, his eyes closed and she began her own steady rhythmic stroking of his member. 

 

A loud crack emanated through the room and Vegeta sat up with a start, it was dark and he was covered in his own sweat, panting Vegeta looked around. It was night and he was alone in his bed at Capsule Corp. the sheets wet from his sweat, another crack sounded and the room flashed briefly with light. A thunderstorm he realized had begun at some point while he slept, the loud thunder waking him from…from an erotic dream about Bulma? Vegeta’s groaned heavily at this, feeling both frustration that he was woken before the ultimate climax and pure hate for himself that he was even having the dream in the first place. The clock read 1:42 in the morning he had been asleep for less than 3 hours. Groaning he looked down at his waning erection, his sheets were heavy dampness from his sweat, the fabric sticking on his thighs. He decided he better start his day now, assuming correctly that sleep now would be a far away thing indeed. 

Bulma herself was sitting up in bed too, the thunderstorm had woken her up with a violent crack of its whip. She pressed her palm to her forehead and supported her weight with the other hand on the mattress. Had she really just had an erotic dream about Vegeta? Really? thought Bulma, she hadn’t seen that one coming. Sure, she had thought about the Prince and his firm, toned body that was always half naked when she was around, and that chiseled jaw which only served to enhance his already godly good looks. However he had been wandering into her thoughts even more lately since Yamcha had disappeared from the picture, but she never took those thoughts seriously. Ever. Well if she honest with herself, not until recently. 

'It was just a dream, just a simple dream!' she mumbled to herself. She figured her subconscious must be more lonely than she could of anticipated and now looking for something new right? She couldn't possibly be THAT attracted to the egotistical pain in the ass Prince, or at least not enough to be having those kind of dreams. Still the dream had been exciting and she was realizing that she might actually really like the idea of him on top of her, she could even smell him in the dream..which was oddly vivid to say the least. She gently let her fingers trace the edges of her lips and wondered then if he could kiss just as good in real life. The rush she felt between her legs at the thought of Vegeta’s lips on her own brought her directly to the conclusion that she definitely wouldn’t mind finding out. 

Laughing lightly to herself at the thought of her and Vegeta getting it on. She could mentally hear his mocking now, silly woman, disgusting earthling, weak. The words rolling around in her head like marbles in a glass jar. Pushing it all to the side, trying to forget the way his hands had caressed her and how utterly perfect that felt, and how captivating. She laid her head back onto her silk pillows, hair spilling out around her, she pulled the sheet up to her chest, the light sheen of sweat that covered her body now chilling her in the lonesome night, then finally letting the sound of the rain wash away the dream and slowly soothe her back to sleep. 

The next morning Bulma stretched and yawned while laying in her bed amongst the comfort of her lilac colored sheets. It was early, but Bulma felt well rested and in a surprisingly decent mood. Hmm what should she do today? Work? She stood up and walked to her balcony, pushing open the light weight cream colored curtains she unlatched the door and stepped out into the early morning sun. Last nights rain had left dew drops on the plants that called her balcony home the air felt clean and smelled like wet pavement. She decided it was too pretty of a day to sit in her lab cave and work till she dropped. 

An hour later showered and dressed she made a beeline for the kitchen, having woken at a decent time for once in a blue moon, she found her mother in the kitchen. Panchy was all smiles as per the usual, looking 20 years younger than her actual age. Bulma prayed she inherited her mothers tendency to not age, or rather age at an alarmingly slow rate. 

She floated to her mothers side and planted a soft kiss on her cheek and squeezed her shoulder, mumbling a soft ‘good morning’. Panchy lightly patted the hand which rested on her shoulder and made a kissing gesture back as a way to return Bulma’s sentiment.  
“My love, you are up early! May I fix you some breakfast? Your father just finished and I was about to have the bots clean up, but I would so love to fix you something, and we can catch up too!” Panchy exclaimed with a large smile. 

Bulma agreed as she sat down at the table, breakfast with mom would be nice. It’s been a little while since they had shared a decent conversation. Bulma watched as her mother prepped and began to cook for her. The conversation started with casual updates, what Bulma was working on, what her mothers current art project was, how her mother had plans to renovate part of the garden this year for more room for vegetables. Finally placing a plate of several eggs fried over hard with cheese, four thick slices of bacon, a lump of hash browns, a bowl of white sticky rice, and a side of fresh strawberries (Bulma’s absolute favorite) in front of her beaming beautiful daughter. With out missing a beat hot coffee soon followed, one for Bulma, and one for Panchy. Bulma’s was inky black, and Panchy’s a soft brown which only meant it was loaded with cream and sugar.

“So! You and Yamcha! How are things going with that stud?” Asked her mother slowly stirring her cup of coffee with a tiny spoon and resting her chin in her palm, she was smiling so big that her eyes seemed closed from the effort of her cheeks. 

“Mom, I know I haven’t been completely open with you and dad about Yamcha these past few weeks, but I’m sure you’ve noticed his absence… and also how I’ve refused to speak with him…?” prompted Bulma trying to get her mother to remember that she had asked her almost a month ago to keep Yamcha from speaking with her.

Panchy only smiled bigger and then giggled “Oh yes! I remember now, that’s so silly Bulma, he's such a hunk. Well not as hunk-ish as Vegeta but still.” She kept smilimg and her eyes drifted off slightly into a fantasy about who knows which man. 

Bulma slightly rolled her eyes at this and cleared her throat after a huge mouthful of eggs in attempt to break her mothers day dream, “ Well mother, Yamcha is not good for me, not anymore at least. We’ve grown to want different things. We won’t be getting back together…ever.” Bulma said with piercing finality. Bulma noticed as she finished speaking that she was giving Yamacha far more grace than he deserved in her answers to her mothers questions. She was lightly placing the blame on no one, simply giving the assumption that Yamacha and her were in mutual agreement and understanding of this new relationship status.

'Damn,' she thought 'I guess I've grown up a bit.'

Panchy cocked her head slightly and a small frown played across her features as she processed that her daughter would indeed not be marrying the hunky baseball star. Then as if another lightbulb lit up to immediately take the place of the first, she smiled the biggest smile of them all and exclaimed “ Well sweetie that’s just perfect! Vegeta is actually a much better suitor for you! I’m so happy you two have connected instead.” 

“What?! What are you talking about? Vegeta and I have NOT connected we are nothing more but oddly matched roommates!” Bulma blushed into her breakfast then shoveled even more food in anxiously remembering her dream from the night previous. “Plus!” She roared to life again, “he has NO manners! He is NO gentleman! And he is a stupid selfish MONKEY with only one single care in his entire existence!!” She sputtered slamming her fist on the table with every other word sending specks of food around her plate like moons orbiting a planet.

Panchy paused for barely a moment but then immediately picked up were she left off, “Well Bulma dear it seems you two have more in common than maybe you both realize.” Panchy suddenly becoming wiser and more astute than Bulma was every used to. She then gently clasped one of Bulma’s hands, patting it lightly, coming out with the words “Sometimes my love, our destinies turn our different than we expected, but it’s usually better than what we expected. Try and go with this flow, mmkay? I mean seriously dear, what if you end up alone?” The last word cutting like a razor into Bulma’s confidence and resolve. 

Did her mother know something she didn’t? Did her mother actually just say that? Bulma could only wonder as to what her facial expression was at response to this comment. How did the conversation turn into this? Her and Vegeta had no flow to speak of. Right? She just wanted a drama free meal. Grumbling Bulma downed her coffee, stood up and then filled her cup again from the pot resting on the table. The day had started so nice too. Panchy continued to stare at Bulma with an innocent expression. Bulma was desperately trying to save face and convince herself that her mother had no idea what she was talking about… Damn well she sure hoped not.

“Thanks for breakfast mom, delicious really. Thank you.” Bulma said in a hurry leaving her food half uneaten and clasping her mug to her chest, she made way to leave the kitchen, suddenly feeling so overwhelmed, overwhelmed and sad. Sad about Yamcha, sad about being alone, sad that she may actually like the Prince and that was of course a nowhere road. She did feel alone, completely too. This did not sit well with her. She dallied in the hallway near the phone, her mind rolling over on itself. Should she call Yamcha? It had been almost a month with zero contact. Maybe he was sorry? Maybe she was being dramatic? She felt tears coming. Damn! She thought she was over this. She thought she’d let this go. Giving in she put her mug on the hallway table and dialed the number she wished she didn’t know by heart. 

“Babe!” The male voice on the other end of the line exclaimed, “ Where have you been? I’ve missed you? It seems like you’ve been angry with me.” His voice softened at the end. He didn’t know she knew. 

“Hey Yamcha…” her voice barely a whisper.“How have you been? I’m sorry, I just needed some space.” She lied. 

Without missing a beat he responded eagerly “I was starting to get really worried myself, that maybe you’d met someone else. It seemed like I couldn’t get through on your cell, and no one at your house would let me talk to you.” His tone now questionary and slightly hesitant. 

“No…t-t-that’s not it, I-I just have been absorbed in some new information I got..” not completely lying to him now, “it’s been a lot to process.” She almost sobbed into the phone.  
“Well I’ve missed you, I want to see you.” He said. 

Bulma was cracking, the pressure to intense, the heat of anger boiling up in her and about to spill over at hearing his voice again, his lies seeped through his lips like oil. She brought her fist to her mouth and bit her fingers hard in a feeble attempt to distract and ultimately control the emotions that threatened to disrupt everything. The bite was hard and the pain was sobering, suddenly she had no idea why she was on the phone with this prick, her heartbreak had clearly had its way with her mind again. Angry that her one moment of weakness lead her back to this point. 

“DAMNIT YAMCHA YOUR SUCH AN ASSHOLE!” And with that Bulma slammed the phone so hard back onto the receiver that it tumbled to the ground from sheer disruptive force. Bulma violently yanked the phone line from the wall knowing this wouldn’t stop calls from coming in but it felt cathartic anyway. 

Fuck. Today started out so nice, she thought as she sat on the floor of the hall in a stupid crumpled heap, almost in the same way as when she first found out about Yamcha’s most recent indiscretions. It wasn’t even 9am and already she wanted to give up on the day. She bent her legs and wrapped her arms around them, pulled herself close, knees against her chest and face pressed against her knees, ultimately becoming a human sized ball. Staying that way for what felt like too long gently rocking herself in a lame attempt to soothe her soul. 

A deep rough voice broke her trance. “ What the hell are you doing now?”  
She ceased her gentle rhythm, looked up and peeled herself apart from ball formation she had folded herself into to gaze upon at the Prince of all Sayians. 

“Ugh, what do you want Vegeta? I am so far from the mood that requires me to deal with YOU.” She stood slowly, facing him on a more level ground. Even though he was still several inches taller than her. Not much, but enough to make for a really perfect angle for kissing. Vegeta could tell that she had been crying, as to why? He couldn’t possibly guess, and he cared even less, if that was possible. 

“Your stupid fucking invention is broken again."

He wanted to yell, he had planned to yell, to raise hell with the woman. But for some reason after seeing her like this, he just couldn't. He secretly liked their fights however, it was one of the only stimulating things this rock had to offer. Plus he was infuriated regardless of his appetite for a good argument, nearly as much as Bulma was but for almost different reasons, but not quite. Both had something they desperately wanted that was just outside their grasp, both had been reminded of their rejection that very same morning and virtually at the same time. Vegeta was woefully reminded that he still could not achieve his destiny and that another had taken it from him, and more importantly that he needed to rely on even another to help him get there, mainly Bulma and her GR. Bulma wanted love and loyalty, real love and the REAL loyalty that came with real love. She wanted someone of equal cailibur to her own mind and personality. She wanted Yamcha to be that, but she now was realizing that she was relying on the wrong source for this. Both were being denied what they each wanted most. But to be totally honest only one of them was looking in the wrong place but neither of them knew this. 

“Woman! Snap out of it! The, the GR is malfunctioning, the gravity is being distributed unevenly, where as this would be a welcome training session, I am finding it less than satisfactory. Fix it.” Vegeta felt like he was being as nice as he could be, he folded his arms across his very broad and toned chest.

Bulma decided then, that if she was to truly move past this Yamcha situation she couldn’t just wallow, she really did have more important things to worry about. I mean how could she find a new boyfriend if the world was going to be destroyed and her along with it. With that she resolved to commit herself fully to helping save this planet, her planet at any cost. Hands moving to her hips she straightened up, “Okay! Vegeta! Give me couple of hours and I’ll figure it out.” She said with confidence.  
“Tch. See you in a couple of hours then.” He made deep eye contact with her while he said this, and lingered on her features a little to long, gazing upon her face for an extra few moments, then her bosom which was being revealed nicely in a turquoise top, finally remembering the dream he had. Coming to the conclusion the feelings that arose about her he absolutely hated. He turned on heel and in a moment he was gone.


	5. Reality Bites

Every few seconds Bulma could feel another drop of sweat drip down the back of her neck. Her blue gray Capsule Corp jumpsuit stifling in the cramped quarters of the GR. She had removed two of the six wall panels that protected the main generator and crawled into the small space. Surrounded by wires and hardware she was laying on her side propped up on one elbow while she used her welding torch to secure the new gravity simulator that would be able to not only fix the original problem but also amplify the gravity an additional 200x’s more than the previous max of 350x’s earth gravity. 

Vegeta had originally come to her because the gravity distribution was acting unsettled, turns out the generator had been worked to virtual annihilation and essentially couldn’t keep up with the Prince’s training regime. She was starting to feel like nothing could survive a Sayian after a certain point. Maybe Vegeta wasn’t just being egotistical and prideful when boasted of his species strength and endurance. She was certainly questioning her capacity as a scientist and inventor in terms of keeping up with the violent man. Thinking and more honestly praying that anything over 500 should sate the Princes appetite for a bone crushing challenge for hopefully longer than 2 months. This project had taken Bulma longer than she had originally intended, but it was worth it, doing whatever she could to contribute to her family, her friends, her home and her species safety would always be worth it and Bulma felt proud and privileged that she could do something, anything, to help. 

Finally the last of it was finished and Bulma was beyond ready to leave the small space before she passed out from heat and what felt like lack of oxygen. She powered down her torch and collected the tools she brought with her, she pulled off the mask she wore to protect her face, hair and eyes from the heat and sparks of the torch (this helped only a little). Following closely behind her was the oppressive feeling of claustrophobia and it began to set in. She felt every inch of her covered in sweat and her head started to feel light, she knew she had to get out of there, now. Army crawling in reverse to the open panel that was her exit she spilled out of it and laid on her back unzipping the upper portion of the jumpsuit as the cooler air of the GR ran through her lungs and now over her exposed skin.

‘Ahhh, that’s better’ Bulma mumbled. Closing her eyes for a moment to enjoy the sensation of relief that came with open spaces, not caring at all that her creamy breasts and lacy black bra were exposed, she was alone after all. 

“Tch. You better be finished if you think now is the time to nap.” A rough voice said over her. 

 

Bulma opened her eyes to see the prince looking down with arms crossed and his preverbal scowl on his face. 

“I. Am. Done. Well almost, I just have to put the panels back on. And your here now which is actually good timing, I’ll need you to test it out.” 

Vegeta seemed satisfied because he had no response to this. Bulma sat up and grabbed the electric screw driver and began to put the panels back in their respective places. Stealing a small glance at the prince, she was surprised to see he was staring back at her. Immediately she looked away, ‘yikes! that was weird, why was he just staring like that’ Bulma thought. 

As the last screw was being put into place Bulma again felt that exposed sensation she had felt a few weeks ago in the tub while she stitched up the Prince on High. Her thoughts moving through what felt like honey, she slowly realized that she had done it again! That the front of her jumpsuit was still unzipped! She paused for a moment and looked down. There the girls were, full, proud, and shiny in sweat. Instead of freaking out however Bulma quickly decided she’d play it cool, pretend she knew the whole time, and that she seriously didn’t care what the prince saw or for better, thought. Swallowing the lump that had formed in her throat from embarrassment she finished her work and as casually as possible stood and turned full frontal to Vegeta. 

Confidence suddenly coming from seemingly nowhere filled Bulma to the brim, she made eye contact with the hunky Prince. With his returned gaze falling to her exposed flesh she stood a little taller and placed a hand on her hip as it swung it out, the other hand coming to her shoulder while still holding the electric screw driver. 

“Well come on then Vegeta, what are you waiting for? Are you just going to stare at my breasts alllll day? I thought you had more important things to do.” She said with a giggle and a wink of her eye. 

Vegeta eyes snapped up from her bosom to her face. He had it seemed been in a small trance of sorts, her exposed flesh had caused his thoughts to slow and his heart rate to increase, his belly warmed and he felt a pull in his groin. Then words were coming out of her mouth, then she was giggling at him and he realized he’d been caught staring. Staring and enjoying. 

“Shut up! I see nothing worth looking at.” Clipped Vegeta, but his voice had less of an edge than usual, because he knew he had been indeed staring, and that the woman too undoubtedly knew it.  
Bulma took several steps toward him, she was close now, he could smell her again, all of her. 

“Are you sure Vegeta? Maybe if there was something worth looking at, and you played your cards right, you could look at a lot more.” Her voice getting soft and sultry. Bulma had no idea where this flirtation was coming from, but it felt natural, it felt exciting. Wanting to see how far she could push the moment, she kept inching closer, keeping eye contact which she learned Vegeta was surprisingly good at. 

“I see nothing more than a weak...earthling, useful only for what she can do with her hands.” Replied Vegeta with now even less roughness to his voice. 

She was so close now, like the time he scooped ice cream for her. He could see all her individual eyelashes, the detail and plumpness of the Cupid’s bow of her lips, her slender neck giving way to soft skin and two creamy tantalizing mounds. He wondered how good she would taste. Speaking was becoming harder again, his thoughts slowing and turning in a different direction than training. God the smell of her, it was the same as before but stronger and there was something else new to it, something he really really liked. Then he understood, it was her pheromones, she was turned on. 

Bulma was turned on by him. The warm pulling feeling he had felt in his low belly and groin suddenly exploded into a million fractal pieces in his body sending a sensation that he had never felt before all the way to the farthest corners of his physical existence. Before he knew it he had moved forward too, now a barely there distance existed between them. What was he doing he kept thinking, he couldn’t possibly… kiss her, could he? Should he? Would she let him?” 

Then Bulma whispered “Your right, I am good with my hands.” A small statement loaded with suggestibility. “In more ways than this...I could show you.” Now it was Bulma’s turn to wonder what she was doing, it felt like she was at the edge of something. Something that could change everything. But if he kissed her, she probably would like it. Like it very much actually, if the wetness gathering between her legs had anything to say about it. And she just offered herself to him. Not sure why or if she could even take the rejection right now, after Yamacha and all, but here she was waiting with actual baited breath. Then almost as if time wasn’t real Vegeta’s lips were on hers. She didn’t even see him lean in, just one moment nothing, and then the next moment her entire world was filled to the brim with an excited exploding rush that filled up every possible space it could reach while simultaneously changing everything it touched that was already there, just like a supernova. Her lips felt like they’d found the most perfect match. Fitting like two pieces of a puzzle to another two pieced puzzle, every movement matched and reciprocated in a destined and nearly destructive way. One of Vegeta’s hands came up to cup her cheek and then slide into her hair griping it tightly from the roots, almost desperately. The other hand moved to the small of her back and pressed her groin into his. Bulma replied with touches of her own, one arm wrapping tightly around his neck the other around his torso, nails digging in and pressing him to her in equal measure. 

Vegeta’s mind was completely absorbed in the moment, in Bulma’s body, her smell, and mainly and currently her lips. He couldn’t even begin to think about what was happening, he just wanted more. He felt a hunger, no a need like he had never before experienced. It was a rush, a pull, a desire to dominate, to claim, and to ultimately own. Vegeta’s hand slide from her low back to her ass, he was pleased to feel it was nice and round with a plump sort of firmness that fortunately was more than a handful for him. He massaged and squeezed her there, melting into every single moment of contact. His other hand came down to match the first and he gave both her ass cheeks a firm squeeze and then gathered Bulma’s small frame into his arms picking her up and turning her around so her back was pressed against the GR wall, her legs immediately wrapping around his waist. Their kissing was intensifying and Bulma could feel Vegeta’s erection on her inner thigh. She moaned a little into his mouth to try and coax him into more, to let it be known she was enjoying him. Vegeta responded without hesitation and intensely to this, he slammed his body harder into hers, almost making it hard for her to breath as he was pressed even more firmly to her. He let out a small growl and she could feel his smile on her lips and that alone Bulma realized was a completely beautiful thing all by itself. Then his lips pulled from hers and in a short second Bulma was greeted by a new sensation, a strong sharp pain on her neck, right below where her pulse could be felt. 

Vegeta was biting her.  
He was biting the shit out of her.  
Not enough to break the skin, but with intensity and what felt like intention. Admittedly there also a sense of Vegeta holding back that Bulma couldn’t help but notice and seriously wished Vegeta would let go of. Taking a second to let her body absorb this train of events and thoughts, she quickly decided she liked it, whatever it was. Some alien thing Bulma guessed. 

They were utterly lost to each other for several moments when then there came a rolling voice in the close distance beckoning them back. 

“Hellloooooo, anybody in here? Vegeta? Helllooooo?” The voice of Dr. Briefs calling out made everything screech to a abrupt halt.  
“Bulma are you in here? Your mother said you were fixing the GR today. Helloooo anybody around?”

The voice bouncing down the entrance hallway and getting closer second by second. Vegeta and Bulma separated so fast you’d think one of them was on fire. Bulma zipped up her jumpsuit all the way turtle necking the fabric to cover what what she was sure was going to be quite the impressive bruise on her neck, a mark she would bet was already starting to show, and Vegeta? Well, he flew to a window in the GR and when he realized it wasn’t the kind that opened he just powered up and busted right through it, flying away. 

Kami! What just happened thought Bulma, out of breath for some reason and extremely flushed. Her father then came around the corner of the GRs entrance hallway to see Bulma standing near the wall looking quite shaken and red in the face. 

“Ahh Bulma! I found you. Darling? Are you alright? Your face is so red.” Commented Dr. Briefs. 

“Y-y-yes Daddy. I’m fine. It was just hot and cramped in that panel. I’m finished now though.” 

“Excellent, I assume the repair did the trick hmm?” 

“Ohh I uh, I think so, Vegeta left before I could test it, a-a-and he’s the only one who can make sure the gravity is still being distributed evenly.” Bulma was fumbling with her words which was unusually uncharacteristic of her. 

Dr. Briefs definitely noticed the odd behavior and asked again “Darling, are you sure your okay? Did Vegeta upset you? Why is the GR window broken?” Him and his little black cat called Scratch, both looked up at the shattered window in curiosity. 

“Oh yea, Vegeta decided he doesn’t need doors I guess.” Bulma said thinking how lame that sounded even to her. “But really Daddy, I’m fine, it just gets a bit claustrophobic in there sometimes.” She said weakly hoping he’d just drop the subject and get on with why he came looking for her in the first place.

“Alright,” Dr. Briefs said taking the hint that Bulma was not going to be forthright with him, he continued, “I need you to look over a schematic I have in the lab, I think it may be the missing link you have been looking for in your Systematic Data Telelocator. 

Bulma eyes lit up and she was suddenly 100% present. “Show me!” She squealed no hesitation whatsoever. 

“Now now, are you sure you don’t want to get cleaned up first? You seem...well” Dr. Briefs cleared his throat. “...like you need to be refreshed.” Dr. Briefs said this tentatively, knowing his daughters temper, he couldn’t help but think that he may be broaching a sensitive subject, her looks were quite important to her. Also he couldn’t help it as a father, he cared deeply for her health and she looked positively frazzled today. Basically he had never seen her look so worked up.

“Daddy! No way! This news is groundbreaking for me, I mean seriously the hours upon hours I’ve put into this! No way, I’ve waited long enough for this break through. Please show the way!” She gestured excitedly with her hand implying he lead the way to this miracle. 

Bulma was still full of adrenaline from her encounter with Vegeta, she liked it more than she could of ever guessed. But why hadn’t she noticed this attraction before, now that she was seriously considering the Prince, she began to realize he did have many qualities she desired. Bravery, discipline, the desire for growth, and intelligence to name just a few. And of course a serious obvious was his God like physic. That body alone was enough to bring most woman to the end of their morals. Her eyes closed for a moment remembering what his biceps felt like under her fingers.  
The hiss and compression of the lab door opening was enough to bring her back. Following her father into their lab, their shared world, she let thoughts of Vegeta fall behind her to rest in the elevator that she just left. Now she returned as a princess to her own kingdom.


	6. Neglect

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just want to say a big thank you to all of those who have taken the time to read this story, and a even bigger thank you to the kudos givers and comment leavers. You all have inspired me to keep this going. I hope I can continue to give you a story that you enjoy. I am always open to polite advice and suggestions, if you have any I would be happy to hear them. Don't worry many more chapters are already in the works. <3

Vegeta touched down miles and miles away, in fact so many miles away he lost count after 100 or so, the forest was thick, the trees old and big. He was still waiting for the last of the adrenaline from his unexpected encounter with Bulma to fade…but it just wouldn’t. It just calmed somewhat and then plateaued, but the pull was still there. The pull to return to her.

"What. 

Just. 

Happened."

Speaking out loud to himself he panted, every word coming out with its own breath. He had landed on a thick tree branch some 50 feet up, facing the trunk one hand on each side of it, head hung and eyes closed in an attempt to stabilize and reorient himself. His erection was gone. Finally. It had taken more than half his flight to get rid of, but now against his will it was gently itching to come back. At this moment he truly loathed his body. It had betrayed him for the better part of his life. First he had to watch his family, planet and species come to compete and total decimation while being able to do physically absolutely nothing to stop it. This made sub coming to Frieza’s heinous rule while he grew inevitable and through those years his body and power still wasn’t strong enough to do anything about it. Finally the most brutal blow, watching kakarot surpass him, steal his destiny and achieve the legendary. Trying desperately to not think of that other additional strike against his ego and life work--the boy from the future. Who also had somehow turned Super, then proceeded to make short work of avenging his planet, family, and race. If Vegeta knew how to cry, this might of been the time.

He felt nothing but inferior in every way. Now he had gave into some lowly Earth slut, some weak woman, a being he felt compelled too and almost fascinated by. He dug his fingers and hands into the tree trunk making deeper and deeper impressions, imaging he was chocking the life out of his failures. With so much pressure he was virtually cutting the tree in half, his palms pressing toward each other like a magnet. After moments of his pure agony being channeled into his palms, from his strength he could hear the creak and groan of the wood giving in and about to break. The top of the tree began to sway slightly and tip, then ultimately it gave up and snapped in half where Vegeta had ferociously gripped it. It fell to the ground breaking and smashing everything it encountered on its way down and with it so did Vegeta’s resolve. 

Many hours had passed by the time Vegeta finally returned back to Capsule Corp. It was late into the night and everything was still. Bulma’s window and balcony were two away from his and all seemed quite there. Vegeta laid on his back staring up a the night sky and the river of stars that were cast across it. It was a clear night and the air was warm and smelled sweet from the flowers in Bulma's mothers garden. He had trained late, crushing giant boulders and obliterating an entire forest. Now tho, he had unexpectedly found a little pocket of peace underneath a big oak tree while he contemplated his life up until now. It was a quite night, occasionally the train horn would sound in the distance. When he first came to Earth he found this sound the most soothing, especially at night when he was up alone with his thoughts. He didn’t know why. On planet Vegeta there were no trains, infact in all his cosmic travels there were no trains. Maybe he liked the sound because even when everything else was still and quite the train moved and pushed through, always reaching for its true destination. He didn’t sleep much when he first came to this planet. He’d spent entire days and nights pushing himself to his breaking limit over and over again and he was still to achieve the legendary. To reach his destination. How did Kakarot do it? No matter how many times he gave it his everything, nothing changed. Well not nothing, he could feel himself getting stronger and faster everyday, his power levels increasing at a palpable rate but still no transformation. Where was it? Why did this elude him, was he missing a piece of the equation? Frustration filled his every cell. 

Then there was the woman, tch, always around, constantly trying to engage in conversation, with those…those clothes! Sundresses that were cut almost too short, blouses that left too little to the imagination, and heels that made her legs go on forever. And how could Vegeta forget the bikini she traipsed around in outside each day. Which now to Vegeta's own disgust he would catch himself lately glancing through the GR window around the same time everyday to see if she was out there. 

Yup. 

A huge fucking distraction.

 

Thinking again on her words about she having left the weakling, the subject still piqued his interest and he thought about it frequently, he wondered what had happened between them. Satisfied nonetheless that he wouldn’t have to be seeing that imbecile any longer. Vegeta hated Yamcha long before any of this, but couldn’t ever fully unload on the fucker because of Bulma, until now. He decided maybe seeing him one last time wouldn’t be so bad, he’d get to kick his ass, just for fun. But still the woman might not like that. 

Why did he care though what she would like? Sure out of all the female specimens on this back water planet she was seemingly the most superior. Intelligent, adventuresome (almost to a fault), she had more spirit and fight in her little finger than most humans had in their whole bodies. She was brave too. Always standing up to him, never backing down. It was bold, it reminded Vegeta of his kind, the way the woman of his home were. Kakarot mated with a Earth woman, siring an offspring that was stronger than anyone could of expected. Possibly even with the capacity to surpass his own father. But Kakarot doesn’t remember planet Vegeta or any true Sayian traits. How could Vegeta possibly compare his situation to Kakarots? Sure they were the same species, but they were entirely different people. Vegeta couldn’t help but think about Bulma when he filled in the mental space of who could possibly sire his offspring. He couldn’t help but compare her to Kakarot’s own loud overbearing excuse for a mate. Bulma still seemed a million times better. Was he really contemplating this? Was he really considering Bulma? Considering her for what tho? Vegeta’s brain was starting to hurt, why did his thoughts swirl around the woman like water heading for the drain. He thought about her far to often, and lately it was becoming harder to control and harder to deny that she had some kind of pull on him. Despite all his thoughts, he had no answers. He felt drawn to the woman and didn’t know why. Sitting up he rested his head in his hands for a moment pressing his palms to his eyes. Maybe he should leave Earth, maybe this was only a block on the path to achieving his destiny. Something deep inside told him no however. The peaceful feeling of before now completely gone, frustration again building by the second. Grabbing a rock that was resting on the ground by his knee he hucked it with just a flick of his wrist watching it sail across the compound hitting the wall and busting a hole through it. 

After several more minutes and no answers Vegeta sighed at his weak thoughts and stood up. Glancing at the sky in the direction of where his home would have been located far far off in the distance of the galaxy. ‘What advice would you give me father, if you could’ wondered Vegeta silently to himself. 

He began his short flight to his balcony, almost passing Bulma’s, he stopped, a weird urge to steal a private look at her washing over him. He landed on the smooth stone making no noise, he looked through the French doors into her room. Her bed was centered against the rear wall and she was asleep on her side facing him, the sheet only half draped over her. Vegeta had never seen into Bulma’s room before, not because she was a very private person but simply because he never cared enough to even give it casual thought. Now however he took in as much as he could, although it was dark his superior Sayian eyesight had no issues discerning detail. The bed was large and had a canopy over it with dreamy sheer white curtains around it, currently they were pulled open hiding little of the sleeping figure . Her carpet was beige and plush with an additional large round purple rug resting under the bed and extending out into the middle of the room. She had a large desk off to one side of the room near more windows, cluttered and messed with magazines, books, gadgets, and various knickknacks. Vegeta’s eyes traveled over a pale yellow reading couch and some piles of laundry and then rested on her bureau where he noticed a picture of her and Yamcha. They were angled toward each other sitting on a beach towel with waves crashing behind them. His hand on her thigh his gaze upon her face, a smile on his lips, she was laughing as if he had just whispered a joke in her ear. 

They looked happy. 

Suddenly perturbed and confused as to why he was feeling so angry at the sight of her having a photo of him. He scowled, why did she still have that? Hadn’t she discarded him? He then gripped his own hair ‘GET A HOLD OF YOURSELF FOR FUCKS SAKE VEGETA’ he angrily scolded himself.  
That’s it he decided, he was over letting the woman distract him any longer! He didn’t understand it but he was done with entertaining it. He wasn’t going to be speaking with her again until he turned legendary and who knows maybe after that he’ll just kill her. His hand curled into a fist and he tried to smile like he actually liked the idea of killing her. He decided and assured himself that if he needed help with GR, he will have Dr. Briefs address it, or have the old man ask Bulma to on his behalf. Other than that, he would avoid her presence at all costs. 

 

Two days later…

Bulma’s arms were crossed, her elbows resting on the tacky pink speckled plastic table top of the diner (ah hem! Restaurant!! she tried to convince herself of) she had found herself in... at Yamchas bequest. 

Her fingers glided up and down her arms and gripped her own skin as a million and one thoughts shot through her. Those thoughts, tumbling over themselves like an actual avalanche, ones that started in her mind and relentlessly, ruthlessly, and with juggernaut force cascaded down her entire physical being. Making her feel psyched out and nauseous in equal measure. Not to mention her anxiety was spiking at the slightest of provocation. She was feeling overwhelmed and confused at the very least. The individual fingers of each of her hands held her own biceps, her finger nails actually driving into her sensitive flesh, clutching. Realizing what she was doing to her skin, leaving little crescent moon shapes from her nails all over, she relaxed her grip and stretched out to take a sip from her water glass. Where was he? She thought to herself, glancing at her watch, 15 minutes past when they planned to meet. 

Then as if on cue the diner door burst open and a frantic Yamcha half stepped half stumbled in, glanced around, spotted her and made his way over, slowly, awkwardly. It had been over a month since Bulma and Yamcha had seen each other last and despite having not seen each other a lot had changed between them. After her phone call to him the other morning, Yamacha definitely caught the hint that something was seriously wrong between him and Bulma. He went over to her house a few hours later that same day, hoping he could surprise her and force her to talk to him, face to face. However her mother said she was fixing the GR for Vegeta, she didn’t want to disturb her either. Yamacha wondered if this was just a polite way for Panchy to brush him off. In the past Panchy would coo over the scarred faced fighter, offering him food and beverages, treating him like a super special visitor. But now Panchy’s nonchalance at his unexpected visit was verging on hurting his ego. Desperate, Yamcha asked her to pass along a message, one that asked the blue haired beauty to meet him for lunch, to talk in two days from now and that he would meet her at a diner at 1:00pm sharp. This is where they found themselves now. 

Yamcha approached the table and bent to try and kiss his girlfriend, well now possibly ex girlfriend on the cheek. When she pulled away with coldness and slanted eyes he straightened up awkwardly and slide into the booth opposite of her. They pretty much had the place to themselves, a knot of unease contracted and released in Bulma’s stomach

 

“Hey Babe, what’s going on? I can tell your not happy with me, but I can’t figure out why!” He started, figuring it would best to just dive in. 

“Yamcha! I know! I know you’ve been cheating again. I’ve known for this past month” she said crossing her arms in front of her, angry tears threatening to spill over. 

“Wha…what? Bulma you can’t possibly be serious? I love you-you’re the only—” 

“Yamcha!” Bulma snapped interrupting him and leaning forward “Enough with the lies! I have proof and people we both know saw you with, with whoever that chick was.” There were a thousand things in her mind all fighting to get out of her mouth, insults, more accusations, she tried to curb her anger, tried to convince herself that the urge to rip him a new one wouldn’t solve anything, that she had to come out of this the bigger person this time. 

Yamcha was stunned. She knew? How? Who saw? He just kept opening his mouth to speak, but then nothing would come so he would close it and then seconds later try again. Bulma thought he looked like a fish gulping for air, now all he needed to do was flop around on the ground. He couldn’t keep eye contact with her for more than a couple of seconds. 

Finally words began to formulate, “I…I don’t know what to say Bulma. I shouldn’t of lied…I just, I just fucked up, I wasn’t thinking. You were so busy with work and Vegeta’s GR, you never seemed to have time for me, for us. I just wanted a friend, a companion to hang out with. Seriously Bulma that’s all she was just a friend for company.” He wondered how much she knew, maybe if he played his cards right he could pass it all off as a slightly inappropriate friendship. 

“You fucked her.” Bulma said with the weight of a two ton hammer on his head. Bulma actually didn’t know if this was the case but she knew that with a few cleverly placed accusations the truth would inevitably fall out. 

Yamcha’s face flushed the color of a tomato and he violently shook his head waving his hands in the air in a ‘no way!’ gesture. “Bulma you gotta listen to me babe, she was only a friend I never touched her. Not like that. You’re the one I want, the only one.” Lying was not Yamcha’s best skill, not by a long shot. He gulped wondering if his words were having an effect. 

“Bulma. Say something please.” 

 

Bulma let out a short bitter chuckle at his feeble lie.  
“Look! Yea I have been busy, but that’s no excuse Yamcha for such dishonorable and disrespectful behavior. The androids are coming and time is slipping by, what are you doing to prepare for them? Hmm? Maybe you wouldn’t have so much free time if you were actually disciplined enough to be training and contributing like Vegeta to help save all our asses! You just expect everyone else to do all the work, you’re a coward Yamcha.” 

Yamcha heard all her words but the one that stood out the most was the name of the Sayian Prince, his fists balled tightly and his own anger and jealousy began to show itself.  
“So your saying it’s okay for you to spend thousands of dollars on food, clothing, and technology for Vegeta, to spend most of your time helping him, and have him LIVE with you, while I can’t have a single female friend!? Am I understanding this correctly Bulma?” He said with a sneer. 

“I help Vegeta because in the end it helps us all!” Bulma’s voice was starting to raise.

“Don’t kid yourself Bulma! I see the way you look at him. I’ve seen it so many times!” 

Bulma’s eyes averted from Yamcha and she felt heat pour over entire being. She was sure her cheeks blush gave away this feeling. Her thoughts returning to her and Vegeta's unexpected encounter in the GR from several days before. She almost reached her hand to the scarf that was tied around her neck hiding Vegeta’s mark on her. She had forgotten about it entirely while she waited for Yamcha arrive. 

“So your silly insecurity about something that is not even a real issue gave you the right to cheat? You've decided to punish me because you feel inferior to Vegeta, that’s what your saying, am I understanding YOU correctly Yamcha?” Bulma replied using his own words back on him now. 

“I can handle him being stronger, that’s not something I can change. But what really gets me Bulma is the way you fawn over and dote on that asshole while you completely neglect me! You have been neglecting me for months now! You give Vegeta all your time and resources! He doesn’t even like you and you follow him around like you can’t get enough of his abuse.”

Yamcha’s words stung a little, she had to admit there was a grain of truth there. Reeling her thoughts back in she was about to speak when he continued on…

“Seriously Bulma why do you even give a shit? Who cares if he dies! He is a monster in case you have forgotten, also let me remind you that he got me killed too not so long ago.” 

This conversation wasn’t going exactly as planned, Bulma wanted to have and keep the upper hand here. She didn’t do anything wrong and Yamcha was manipulating the situation like she had this coming.  
Slamming her fist on the diner table making the silverware jingle she spat out,  
“Because I am a decent and good human! I don’t want him to die because he is more than just a monster! I know it. If I wanted him to just die for no reason that would make me a monster too! Also it seems like you can’t get it through your thick skull that we need him Yamcha! You heard that boy, everyone will die,” a sob broke through she didn’t know was there, “ everyone…will..DIE! We need all the help we can find and that most certainly includes Vegeta. I don’t want my family, myself, or anyone to get slaughtered like cattle. You cannot turn this around Yamcha. You’re the one who fucked up, the one who doesn’t think. This isn’t about the androids right now, this is about that woman you were kissing in front of Lazy J’s!” 

Bulma just threw Yamcha another curve ball, she did seem to know more than she was letting on. He was starting to realize he assumed correctly that she was probably laying word traps for him to walk into and get caught lying. 

Yamcha gripped his own hands scrambling for a way out of this one.  
“She kissed me Bulma! I didn’t kiss her, she just did it without telling me. Besides I don’t even like blondes.” He exclaimed as if his lack of interest in a certain hair color would make it all the more understandable. Suddenly Bulma’s eyes grew huge! 

“Blondes! BLONDES!” She screeched bringing all eyes onto the couple.  
“The woman in the picture was not blonde! How many woman are there Yamcha?? I was hoping it was only one but clearly there are at least two, and if my intuition tells me right I’m certain there are plenty more! So now I know you have been kissing at least two woman behind my back!” Bulma was fuming now, steam might actually be about to erupted from her ears. 

“Babe…please. I’m sorry I was just so lonely, I…I know I messed up real bad this time, but cmon it’s me and you…we can fix this right? Babe look at me please.” Yamcha’s voice was cracking he felt a huge weight in his chest. This was bad, real bad. He felt like this may be it, this might actually be the end of their decade long romance. 

Bulma was looking away and swallowed the lump in her throat, a lump the size of a peach which was threatening to become another sob if it escaped. She’d been in denial but ultimately already knew they had no future, this had to end between them. At this point it was just a waste of time. And a huge amount of heartache. When the boy from the future spoke of her having a child, all she could think was how she didn’t want it to be with Yamcha, that her committing and binding her heart to the only man she’s ever experienced just would never bring her true happiness and fulfillment. At the time this thought sat uncomfortably with her. She should want a baby with her long time lover right? She chalked it up to just not being ready to settle down motherhood style. Now though it was all making sense, their paths have become unwound, it was time to make it official. 

Turning her face up to look at Yamcha, her eyes had small glassy tears at their corners. Bulma sniffled a little and said “Yamcha…no. Not this time. This time it’s for real. We are kidding ourselves if we try and continue things now. We have become different people…we value different things. I…I just think this is how it has to be right now.” 

Yamcha reached out and clasped the woman’s small hand, it was soft like white silk. He couldn’t believe her words. He had messed up before but she was always still his, he could always still feel his presence in her heart. Now however, he felt like the space he once occupied there was empty, the piece of him she once loved no longer finding refuge. His heart pulled back at this new sensation, her heart was empty for him and he could tell he would never be welcome there in “that” way again. Silence sat between them similar to the way nighttime sits heavy on everything when there is no moon in the sky to shine down any hope. 

“I have to go now Yamcha, it’s time. We’ve said all we needed to right now. Maybe someday we can find friendship again…until then…take care.” With that Bulma broke the embrace of their hands and slide out of the booth all in one swift motion. Not even sparing a glance back at the warrior. She left him there broken and with him she left the love she once held too.

The door of the diner chimed as she quickly walked out into the afternoon, the sunshine mixed with tears blinding her temporarily. She wanted to get out of there asap, before Yamcha could follow her out and try and change her mind and to be honest Bulma was afraid that with all of these emotions coursing through her, her resolve wouldn’t stick. Yeah she had to get out of here now. Fumbling with the clasp on her bag her fingers shaking, she threw a capsule onto the road, a small pale blue motorcycle appearing as if from nowhere. Another smaller capsule followed producing a helmet and a riding jacket. Zipping up the jacket and slipping her bag over her shoulder and across her chest for security she pulled the helmet down and the tinted black visor with it. Kicking into gear the engine roared to life and in a split second Bulma was off.


	7. Say it Again

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is explicit. Please be mindful.

It was late afternoon and Vegeta was having a great training session, one of his best in weeks. It had also been two days since Vegeta had spoken with or even looked at Bulma. His plan to evade and avoid was actually working out quite nicely. The kiss meant nothing to him, he had to keep telling himself this, in fact he had to repeat this statement so many times over the past two days it was becoming like a mantra to the Prince. He was trying to convince himself that it was regrettable that it had even happened in the first place, he blamed the woman entirely for it but even so he couldn’t make it go away, so he just had to push through it. 

Yet.  
He couldn’t seem to get it out of his mind entirely, in his bed at night in the soft moments between wake and sleep he found his mind exploring the encounter all over again. His body reacting effortlessly to his thoughts and his thoughts just adding more fuel to the already burning sensation in his low belly. The same sensation that seemed to come about lately whenever he was thinking about the woman. Something told him it would be even worse if he was caught alone with her again. He wouldn’t even entertain the thought that he was the one who kissed her first. Why did he do that? 

His heart immediately told him that it was because he knew he would enjoy it, and that he knew by the way she had kissed him back, the way her hands gripped into his hair that she had enjoyed the feel of him too. Then finally that maybe someday they would kiss again. This thought caused him to blush (something he had legitimately never experienced before), to him however it was equivalent to the feeling of his heart dropping into his butt. Suddenly without Vegeta intending it, the energy ball he had just procured became much stronger. Glowing brightly he shot the ball out to a nearby hovering bot who absorbed it with ease. ‘Whoa…where did that extra power come from?’ Vegeta wondered. All he had been thinking about was the woman, and also maybe them both possibly actually enjoying what transpired between them... and then them also maybe doing it again. 

Before he could explore this notion any further the bot that had absorbed his powerful energy began to shoot his own attack back at him with 50x’s the original speed it was sent out with but in smaller energy blasts like a machine gun. Vegeta suddenly had no time to waste figuring out this new puzzle that added to his already complicated thoughts. 

Had Vegeta not been so stubborn against his own feelings, and had he been more experienced in interactions with the opposite sex he might have actually realized that Bulma and his private moment had had a positive effect on him which in turn had a powerful effect on his energy attack. But alas Vegeta was a disconnected soul from his emotions, mainly those that were positive or happy. Him believing for a majority of his life that these very same emotions brought only sorrow and destruction in their wake. Why be happy when that just gives you more room to fall. 

 

Bulma laid lazily on her bed, book in hand resting on her chest as she leaned against large plump pillows. Her favorite fiction novel pulling her into its world. It was so nice to be an avid reader, so lucky to be one of those who could actually fall under the spell of a good story. Since childhood books and stories had always had a powerful effect on Bulma, her mind eagerly falling into whichever world she choose. Sometimes she would get so caught up in the words and people’s lives of a story that it felt like she had completely disappeared from her own world into that of the story. When books would end she would feel like she was saying goodbye to a good friend. 

She had left Yamcha sitting alone, sadness covering his face at the diner a couple of hours ago. Not sure what to with herself or how to proceed with her day she just went home and collapsed into her bed. Not tired, but also not properly happy enough to do anything worthwhile she pulled a copy of one of her favorite stories from her book shelf, hoping for a distraction, anything to keep her mind occupied. Which surprisingly was working like a charm. Although Bulma was undoubtedly sad about her current now permanent state of affairs with Yamcha she was also not as upset as one would of expected. Really she had already had a month to hide and lick her wounds, a month that was actually a kind of a nice limbo. So what was this melancholy all about then she wondered. Perhaps she was just sad because this time it was really done, that the limbo stage of not knowing how it was going to work out was finally over.

Or maybe…she was sad because Yamcha was gone and Vegeta felt even more gone from her life than Yamcha was. Ever since their extremely hot kiss she hadn’t even seen so much as a piece of Vegeta’s hair. She only knew he was around because the GR light that indicated it was turned on and occupied was bright red almost 24/7. She would like to believe their encounter had had an impact on the Prince, (cmon he did kiss her first after all) and that he was avoiding her out of his awkward but very real feelings for her, but Vegeta seemed like his usual self, indifferent to her and completely unfazed by the whole thing. 

A small knock sounded on her door and Bulma glanced up from her book, in the door frame stood Panchy. Smiling at her mother she patted the bed next to her gesturing for her mother to come in and sit, shifting her weight she moved up into a sitting position. The mattress gave a little as her mother sat softly beside her. 

“Bulma dear I’ve come to remind you that your father and I will be leaving town tonight for about a week…maybe longer.” Panchy said with a small smile.

“Oh, where are you going?” Bulma not remembering her mother having mentioned anything about this recently.

“Well dear, your father sometime ago got a invite to be a speaker at this years Public Library of Science and Academic Symposium, he obviously accepted and now that time is here. We will be leaving later this evening after dinner. The whole thing only lasts about 3 days but we’ve decided to make a trip of sorts out of it. We will be going to Turtle Island after for the remainder of the week, and if we are enjoying ourselves we may stay a little longer. You know how much your father could use a break from polymer this, and electric that!” She said with a laugh trying to mimic her husbands scientific banter.

Oh wow what a great idea Bulma thought! She could totally use a vacation and the symposium could be of interest to her as well . She started mentally packing her bags, wondering if she had enough time to go buy a new bathing suit before it was time to leave.  
“I would love to come mom if that’s okay?, I’ll stay out of the way on the resort so you and Daddy can have your private time, but gosh I could use a break from this...” Bulma said gesturing to the air around her. 

“Now now Bulma, you know that’s not possible while we have Vegeta staying with us. You need to look after him and make sure he is staying safe. Plus if the GR breaks someone needs to be here for the repairs. We don’t want Vegeta destroying more forests or small islands in lue of having a functional training facility.”

“Vegeta! He doesn’t need my help! Not only that he doesn’t want my help either, if he heard you say that I needed to keep him safe he would laugh so hard he would probably cry.” Bulma gave her mother a very serious eye roll.

Panchy being the perpetual ray of sunshine just moved the conversation along “Ah sweetie are you and Vegeta fighting again? You know you and him could use this time to get closer too, I mean it’s never fun fighting with your boyfriend.” 

“He’s not my boyfriend! For the millionth time Vegeta and I are nothing. He barely speaks with me.” Bulma couldn’t help but notice that she wished this statement wasn’t as true as it was. Grabbing a pillow and pulling it to her chest she sighed. 

Panchy reached out and put a stray lock of hair behind Bulma’s ear.  
“My sweet girl, I know you and Vegeta will work out whatever it is going on between you two. Just keep being the beautiful woman you are and it’s only a matter of time till he comes around. Now then I have already talked to the staff, they are scheduled to cook all the meals for you and him with plenty of back ups in case he gets extra hungry! We will be eating early tonight so your father and I can get to the hotel at a decent time. Please go let Vegeta know dinner is at 6:00 instead of 7:00.” Panchy stood and smoothed the front of her red dress, she lovingly kissed Bulma lightly on the cheek and gave her a wink.  
“ Now go talk to your man.” 

“Grrr, he’s NOT my man!” Bulma growled as she watched her mother glide out her room.

She threw the pillow on the floor in a big huff. A uncomfortable wave washing thru her at the new prospect of having to seek him out. They hadn’t spoken since the kiss and she had no idea how he was feeling about that. Then Bulma had a thought, she wasn’t going to just sit back and let Vegeta just ignore her and what happened. Hmph! She was Bulma Briefs! She was practically irresistible to any guy with a pair of eyes and she wasn’t about to let Vegeta pretend that she was anything otherwise. She was going to make him want her so bad that he wouldn’t even know what to do with himself, and then maybe after that she would ignore him! Yeah that’s right! Bulma stood up with a rush of confidence the kind that comes when a person finds new purpose. She walked to her closet, changed into a short black skirt and a sleeveless lilac top with a plunging neck line. She had to keep the scarf on around her neck because his mark was still very prominent on her creamy flesh. She fixed her hair and touched up her make up, then spritzing herself with a perfume that uses her natural pheromones to create a unique scent individual to just her. The final touch was a clear lip gloss that gave her plump lips a glassy sheen, the make up itself was subtle but she knew the effect would be extremely hard to ignore. 

The sun was out but was starting slowly to head towards the west casting shadows across the lawn. The GR hummed in the distance as Bulma walked over trying to think of how she wanted to maneuver this conversation to her benefit. Feeling bold she punched in the code that let her into the GR’s opening vestibule then while inside she entered another code that brought the gravity to earths norm.

Vegeta was just finishing his 867th one finger push up when the gravity suddenly disappeared and consequently he ended up pushing himself hard up into the air as a result. The sudden change of sensation was a little jarring at first but he quickly righted himself and landed back down. Sensing ki he knew it was Bulma’s fault that his training was being interrupted and he scowled as she rounded the corner into the main room. Their eyes met and locked onto each other instantly, neither looking away. Bulma’s air getting caught in her chest from the intensity of his stare. Vegeta was about to yell at her to make her leave but their mutual gaze had him feeling tongue tied. He was curious as to why she sought him out. She looked beautiful and her cleavage was making him forget that he had decided he wasn’t going to be speaking with her any longer. 

“Why have you interrupted my training woman?” He stood stoically still, hands in fists at his sides.

“My mother and father will be going out of town for a week or more. That they are leaving in a couple of hours and we will be eating earlier than normal tonight, in case you wanted to eat…with us.” Bulma felt a little silly saying all this, she was sure the Prince thought she was using this as an excuse to speak with him.  
“She told me to come let you know…” Bulma added on the last piece of information in a pathetic attempt to make her seem indifferent to him, and to what happened between them. 

“Consider me told.” He sad sharply and turned his back to her.

“Fine. Whatever asshole.” Bulma grinded out. Irritated at him. Irratiated now at herself for her even being here.

Vegeta was wondering if that’s really why the woman had sought him out, why didn’t she just use the GR’s interface monitor to let him know via a video message.  
When Vegeta didn’t respond to the insult, Bulma feeling officially over it began herself to turn around to leave. Suddenly, her torso half turned a hand grabbed her wrist, it felt white hot and waves of electricity were coming from the contact and heading to straight between her legs. 

Vegeta hadn’t expected to feel such a strong reaction to touching her again. His fingers were wrapped around her wrist and her skin was warm and silky. The heavy heated pooling sensation that he was becoming all to familiar with roared out of control in his low belly. Fuck, he hadn’t grabbed her arm to feel like this again, he had grabbed her wrist so he could stop her and tell her once and for all the Kami’s sakes to never ever fucking again distract him from his training again. Even if her whole house was burning down. Even if Frieza had was going to kidnap he parents. Now though her scent was starting to surround him on all sides like a fugitive about to be caught, her blue eyes kept pulling at his gaze, her lips looked succulent and moist. They were plump, but they always were and he immediately wanted to bit her bottom lip and see if it still tasted as good as it looked. 

“Vegeta, what?” Bulma sputtered out looking down at his hand on her wrist.

“Don’t. Ever. Interrupt my training again for such idiotic reasons. I don’t eat with your family because I enjoy their or yours company, I eat then so I can continue with my training into the night. Also because you have servants to wait upon me at that time as well.”

Bulma snorted at his comment about them having servants to wait upon him. “Seriously Vegeta? Servants? They are our staff and we PAY them to wait upon your ass. They would never treat you so kindly if we didn’t compensate for your verbal abuse.”

“Tch. Say what you want it doesn’t change anything. I’m still of royal blood, whether they or you acknowledge that fact or not is of no importance to me.” The ‘of no importance’ was only partially true, sure Vegeta knew that anyone’s opinion of his status didn’t actually change anything, but his ego still liked being treated with the respect and admiration a Prince deserved. 

Bulma looked down again, Vegeta was still holding her wrist, his grip had lightened now but he held on nonetheless. “Vegeta, why are you still holding my wrist?” Bulma asked softly. Her free hand now playing with the edge of the pale yellow scarf tied around her neck. 

Vegeta’s attention was drawn to the edge of the scarf where a dark purple tint to her skin was peeking over the hem. He knew it was the mark he had left on her from his bite that she was hiding. He couldn’t believe how close he had become to actually biting through the skin and making her bleed, tasting her blood and essentially marking her permanently. 

Claiming her permanently.  
As his. 

He’d lost control so fast that day, had Dr. Briefs not interrupted them there was a high likelihood that things would of gotten out of hand and that he wouldn’t of been able to stop himself. It genuinely freaked the Prince out that he had been about ready to take her as his. He had never felt the need to do that to any other living creature before. Involuntary he gave her wrist a final squeeze before letting it go completely. The breaking of contact with the woman almost depressed Vegeta. He didn’t know how to respond to her anymore and turned away from her.

“Get out.” Was all the words he could muster, trying to make them as devoid of any feeling as he possibly could. He had so many conflicting emotions running through him. He didn’t but also did want to touch her. He didn’t but also did want to feel her soft thick hair between his fingers again, and finally he didn’t but also he did want to see her creamy flesh beneath him writhing and moaning from his touch. He began to walk away when the woman spoke out. 

“I liked it. I liked what happened between us, I…I even like the mark you gave me…for some reason, it felt right.” 

Vegeta froze. He was thanking Kami right now that his back was to her because he was sure his eyes were bugging out and he felt his mouth drop open slightly. What did the woman just say? That she liked it? He had suspected as much but hearing it was a totally different feeling. His hands returned to fists. He thought he was conflicted before? Now he was really conflicted. The animal in him demanded that he turn around and take her right here right now. The very vulnerable part of him told him to either get the fuck outta dodge or kill her instead. 

He gulped. 

He turned around to look at her. Her eyes were burning, her cheeks red and her hand making a fist over her heart. 

“Say it again.” He said.

“I…I liked the kiss. I..I…I like the mark.” Bulma said in almost a whisper. The intensity of his gaze was almost more than she could handle. She was blown away that she was being so bold with the Prince. This wasn’t how she expected things to go. She was just going to flaunt her looks, tease him a little, make his cock yearn for her. It was just supposed to be a game. But now she felt like she broke the damn that was holding everything in, her honesty surprising even herself. 

Then in a split second she was up against the wall of the GR. Vegeta’s lips pressing into hers with such force she wondered if he was trying to break her face. One hand cupping her cheek the other next to her head resting on the wall. Their lips were now moving in a synchronized dance, their tongues playing with each other’s in a desperate and needing way. 

Wasting no time, Vegeta had made up his mind. Or so it seemed he had, he barely remembered deciding to kiss her again. It was almost like the choice was never really his. He just had too. His hands roamed over her body trying to decide where to start first. The clothing between them was much to annoying to the Prince and he made short work of taking off Bulma’s skirt, top, and ripping the scarf off so he could see his masterpiece across her perfect pale skin. He looked over her whole body and smiled in a way that made his sharp canine’s protrude. He growled liking his view very much. She was wearing a black lacy bra which pushed up her already ample breasts and a matching thong which made her hips and waist look like the perfect hourglass. He quickly removed all of his clothing save his skin tight training shorts which now only served to highlight his massive erection. He was indeed going to take the woman now, no thoughts other than that filled his mind. All her, everything her, she filled up his every cell.

Bulma was in shock. Ecstatic shock, but still shock nonetheless. Vegeta was kissing her again. Her whole body responded with enthusiasm to his every touch, her warm center so wet she could feel it soaking her panties already. Vegeta put his face between her shoulder and neck inhaling deeply. God it was so fucking hot when he did that thought Bulma. She hoped he liked the way she smelled. She pressed her breasts further into him and wrapped her legs around his waist grinding on his erection. At this Vegeta turned them around and laid Bulma on the floor and hovered over her, she looked down and his training shorts were gone. He moved so fast she thought. His cock was perfect, her fantasy not even doing justice to the real thing. Very befitting of a Prince she thought. She looked at him face to face and thought he was the most beautiful creature she had ever seen. Riiiiip went her panties, Vegeta held the now torn panties in one hand while holding his weight over her with the other, he brought the wet black lacy thing to his face and smelled them, inhaling deeply yet again. Tossing them to the side after he brought his face down to her breasts pulling the fabric of her bra down to expose them. His mouth came down on one hard pink nipple and began to suck and bite. Bulma moaned loudly and bucked her hips against his, his erection rubbing on her inner thighs, the tip lightly gliding across her wet clit. Eyes closed she shuddered at the sensation of his hard cock rubbing on her delicate soft sex. 

Vegeta couldn’t think about anything other than Bulma, Bulma, Bulma. The way she smelled was driving him absolutely insane, the more he smelled her the more absorbed he became in her. He wanted her all for himself. The urge to claim her again was strong, he tried to push it down. His lips continued its attack on one of her pert pink nipples and eagerly he sucked, she tasted amazing, his other hand massaging her other breast, tugging and pinching that nipple in between squeezes. She was moaning and Vegeta felt like he could actually listen to that sound all day. Letting his hand leave her breast it traveled down the softness of her belly and dipped past her mound that was covered by a small tuft of blue hair to what he really wanted more than anything. He let two fingers slide into her wetness, he couldn’t wait for his cock to be there. He pulled them out and tasted her on his fingers, that tasted amazing too. 

“Vegeta…don’t stop.” The blue haired beauty cooed, “Vegeta…” his name sounding perfect coming from her soft lips. He really liked the way she moaned his name, he wanted to hear it again.

“Say my name again.” He demanded firmly sliding his fingers back between her legs rubbing her clit.

“Vegeta…yes Vegeta….Vegeta…yes,yes.” Bulma cooed over and over again. 

Finally he couldn’t take it anymore, he positioned himself between her legs one arm on each side of her head. Bulma knew what was about to happen and without hesitation she moaned his name again begging him to enter her and at that same moment he thrust into her, up to his hilt, fully sheathed in her warm cunt. Now he moaned and his head rolled back and her name fell from his lips so softly that he was positive that she hadn’t heard it. Her fingers were on his hips and they dug into him, pulled him closer. Vegeta was beginning to pick up pace, sliding in and out fully and slowly at first, she was so incredibly tight in comparison to his sized member. He couldn’t believe how good this felt. 

He had had sex before but it was always just a primal release, quick and only as a means for his own gratification. He was never attracted to any of the woman he had taken in the past, they had all been provided by Frieza as a reward to him, Nappa, and Raditz as a job well done, the encounters usually only lasting maybe 15 minutes and he definitely never kissed any of them on the mouth. With Bulma however he wanted her to feel as good as he did, maybe he wanted to make her to feel even better than him. This was a profound feeling for the Prince, he had never taken anyone into consideration in this way before. Had never cared about how anyone ever felt before. He found himself wondering how to make it even more pleasurable for her, so he could keep hearing his name in her mouth. He never wanted the sound of his name on her lips to go away. 

“My Prince…” Bulma moaned loudly. Vegeta lost his mind at her calling him by his formal title. 

His pace continued to quicken, he grabbed one of Bulma’s legs and put that respective ankle on his shoulder, angling the woman’s hips so he could drive deeper and harder. One of his hands was gripping her waist and the other holding the thigh of the lifted leg. Vegeta was thrusting into her now at a primal furious rate, a thin sheen of sweat over both of them. Bulma was beginning to feel the warm sensation in her groin that indicated she was close to her climax. Vegeta let her leg go so that his hips were cradled between her thighs once again, moving down so that he was back to resting on his forearms their faces only a few inches a part. His eyes found hers and held onto her gaze as his thrusting continued, her matching his pace perfectly with the motion of her hips. Bulma was blown away that for someone so emotionally closed off that he could hold such intense eye contact, especially in an intimate moment such as this. 

Vegeta had found the woman’s eyes with his own, his weight over her, her body fitting perfectly under his. Part of him didn’t want to look at her so directly, but a larger part wanted to stare at her face forever. Realizing that he was already so far over the edge of his reason with the woman he just gave in and locked eyes with her. She was so unbelievably tight, her cunt was soaked and his ego loved that she was so wet because of him. With her nails digging into him and making long slow scratches down his shoulder blades, he began feeling that she was bringing him closer to spilling his hot seed inside of her. Then…

“My Prince…” Bulma’s voice was barely above a whisper, her eyes fluttered closed and he felt the walls of her center contract around his cock, pulling and tightening even more all around him, he pressed his forehead to hers and then his mouth to hers, his tongue demanding entrance immediately while she came. The kiss was hot, Vegeta had no idea a simple thing like a mouth could fit perfectly to another’s, he felt he had to claim her again in someway, he didn’t want to bite the bruise again knowing it would be incredibly painful for her, but more so he didn’t think he could control himself and not break her flesh at this point if he did indeed bite her. But he had to claim her in someway, a kiss would have to do.

Bulma’s entire world was shattering and being remade over and over again while a Earth toppling orgasm rocked her entire physical being. It started where it always does but then shot out in all directions with such force she was sure it had exploded out of her skin. She wanted to tell Vegeta how it was the most incredible feeling she had ever experienced but all she could say was his name, words had for the first time in her life completely failed her. While she rode the wave of her orgasm, Vegeta unexpectedly surprised her again with a act of intimacy, connecting foreheads and then kissing her hard. Really REALLY hard. Bulma could only wonder why. Then she felt what seemed like at first an involuntary jerk from him, his hands that were on the metal floor next to her gripped down and she could hear the metal groaning from the immense pressure he was putting down through his fingers. She felt a hot sensation inside of her, filling her up, Vegeta broke his lips away from hers and growled deeply at his final thrust of completion. He panted over her, arms straight, his head dipped down, his body trembling like a leaf. 

Vegeta and Bulma were slowly coming back to real life. It was taking a minute, the same way that if you fall down a mountain it’s going to take you a minute to climb back up. He was no longer inside of her, however now she was laying on top of him, a hand resting most delicately over a lovely shaped pectoral and her cheek on the other. He had pulled out (after the best orgasm he had ever experienced) and grabbed her waist rolling her over to rest on top of him while his back was to the cool metal floor of the GR. Her figure so petite that her weight felt like that of a comfortable blanket. One hand was resting palm open flat on the small of her back. His eyes were closed and he could still hear his name in her mouth echoing in his mind now. Their breathing had calmed and their heartbeats were slowing down too. He could smell him mixed with her, if possible he liked the combination of the two smells even more than just her scent alone. 

They had been laying there in silence for about 10 minutes, Bulma’s eyes resting on one of the 2 identical hand shaped indentations on the GR floor from when Vegeta had found his release and came inside of her. Bulma slowly pushed herself up, straddling the Prince, one hand on his chest, her face was still lightly flushed from their mutual exercise causing her to have the most adorable blush on her cheeks, her hair was messed but in a sexy way. Not wanting to be the one caught still lingering in the moment, Vegeta spared one more glance at her face and then put his hands on her waist and removed her from his lap. Standing he began grabbing articles of his clothing. Picking up his shoe Vegeta noticed Bulma’s black panties laying askew on the monitor keyboard of the GR. Remembering why they were over here he knew they were useless to the woman now, glancing over his shoulder casually he saw the woman’s back was to him as she pulled her blouse back on, taking advantage of the moment he grabbed the tiny thong and stuffed it into his pocket. 

Bulma had followed suit and dressed herself, noticing with disappointment that her scarf was torn into shreds, it won’t be hiding anything now she thought. She couldn’t find her underwear but if she recalled correctly they too were torn up also. 

“Looks like it’s almost time to eat, I’m definitely starving now.” Bulma said pleasantly while sliding her feet back into her heels. “ I don’t know what to do about this though,” she said waving a small piece of pale yellow fabric in the air “it won’t be able to hide a thing now, and I don’t know how I’m going to slip past my parents or our staff.” She looked quizzical at her own statement like trying to figure out a slightly complex math problem. Vegeta looked at her neck, the bruise was no joke. He loved the look of it though, not that he liked seeing her with an injury, he just liked how she got it and the meaning behind it. 

Bulma noticed Vegeta being very quite, he hadn’t said a single word since they finished and she could only figure that he regretted what just happened, that he was even possibly disgusted at what he just did. Afraid that he was going to suddenly start slinging insults she decided it best to just leave. 

“Okay…well, that was nice. I’ll just be going now, see you at dinner? Maybe?” She felt incredibly awkward, his silence was almost painful. Her short walk to the exit feeling about 100miles long. 

“Tch. Wait.” He said.

Bulma turned back around from making her way to the door. His back was slightly angled to her as he hovered over the GR monitor, she saw he just completed entering in the code that shut the GR down into sleep mode and then cruised up next to her. “Okay, lets go.” He finished as began to walk to the exit.

Still not understanding at all where Vegeta’s head was at, and still waiting for him to completely freak out Bulma silently followed a step behind. He opened the door, held it and let Bulma outside first. Then Bulma’s feet were in the air, Vegeta holding her and putting her over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.  
“What are you doing you big monkey!?” She screeched. 

“You said you needed help getting past your parents.” He responded curtly as if that explained everything perfectly. He took off into the air heading over to the main house flying slowly. Her ass being level with his face due to the way he was holding her he could smell his favorite part of her anatomy still mixed with his juices between her legs. He let himself have a small smile as the smell reminded him of what had just transpired, him back at half mast already, his cock twitched in his shorts. Landing on Bulma’s balcony he opened her French doors sauntered over to her large bed and tossed her unceremoniously on to it.  
“Your welcome.” He said as he turned to her bedroom door. “You better get cleaned up, you look freshly fucked. See you at dinner. Oh and before I forget." He said as he walked over to her bureau and grabbed the same picture of Bulma and Yamcha that he had seen several nights before. Moving back to the balcony doors he threw the picture outside and up in to the air and with one well aimed finger shooting a single intentional energy blast, he effectively reduced the picture and it’s frame to ashes. Vegeta smirked, satisfaction really was his sometimes he thought. Then without so much as a word or a look back at Bulma he left and disappeared down the hallway. 

Sitting almost statue like on her bed, she could still smell and feel his presence on her. She was shocked that Vegeta had just destroyed one of her photographs without any sort of explanation. What did he mean before he forgot? She hung her head and smiled, her mother was right their destinies seem to be turning out way more differently than each of them could of expected.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well Vegeta finally gave in. I've never written lemon/smut before this story so I hope it was at least okay. There will definitely be more of it to come that's for sure.  
> <3


	8. Hot Water

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took me a little while to post the new chapter. I've been pretty busy with work and also celebrated my birthday. 
> 
> UPDATE- I defiantly edited and added more to this chapter. I didn't take anything away but simply added more and rearranged a few things for fluidity, I also added some foreshadowing that I want to follow through with as the story progresses. Thank you for everyone who already read this and may read it again because of the update. Either way the story should still make sense, but I am always open to suggestions and advice. 
> 
> Enjoy! Thanks to every single one of you! 
> 
> P.s I do not own DBZ, but I do love it.

The hottest water of the shower that Vegeta could summon was also apparently the limit humanity would legally allow. It sprayed over Vegeta relentlessly doing nothing, he had tried turning it up, all the way up. He also then turned it down, all the way down to the lowest setting but that was child’s play. That setting was like a luke warm bath in the Arctic. Basically. It was nothing. 

Vegeta finally resigned to the fact that the spray of the shower (no matter the temperature) at this point would do nothing to help alleviate his thoughts. He punched a very serious solid hole in the wall, up to his elbow, which was followed by a even longer and more exasperated sigh.

He obviously knew what had just happened, no denying it. 

Did he want to deny it?

In addition to these thoughts he knew his time with the woman was precarious. Did that matter to him? The Briefs power house couple were soon to leave and how was he supposed to avoid the woman then?

Especially now.  
Even more so now. He had somehow agreed to have dinner with all of them tonight. He had had dinner with her family before, countless times…but it was a little different now…admittedly. What did he want from this? Did he want anything? Not in the many years of his life had he had the luxury of being allowed to ask himself these types of questions. The answers were as much a mystery as was the answer to the question of how the situation with the androids would turn out. There was no way to tell, no matter how prepared anyone tried to be. Vegeta really had no idea what to do. He could barely remember but it seemed the last time he was even asked what he wanted in regard to anything was when he was a small boy. Questions about what he wanted were more terrifying than any enemy, and to make matters much worse he was substantially inexperienced in the realms of the soulful and merciful but most especially in the matters of the heart. 

Had Bulma even slightly suspected she actually understood his life, his regrets and his tumultuous past, she may very well be to terrified to explore the depths of his soul. Yet she had crossed lines to connect with him, and somehow the place in her heart that she had choose to met him in was very real. He also had crossed lines himself to find that place, choosing to met her there, in between all the chaos there seemed to be blurred lines. He wanted to say he hated what happened, but for the first time in a long time he felt okay instead of angry.

He was showered, he smelled great, and he had chosen clothes Bulma’s mother had bought for him, ones he had never worn before. He was not sure why he felt compelled to wear the nice dark blue pants that appeared almost the same shade as the night sky, or the jet black silk collared shirt that he only buttoned up to the edge of his pecs. He felt confident in his attire however, having never once bothered to compare himself to a human. Why would he? He was as close to a God on earth as it was for an actual GOD to be on earth. Still however, he had seen the weakling take the woman out wearing clothes similar in fashion to what he was wearing now, he knew the woman had approved then, so why not now. 

Bulma had just finished drying herself, a fluffy rose colored towel around her bust, barely keeping her own family jewels in. Looking at her phone on the bathroom counter she realized she had about 10’minutes to get her shit together. Scrambling to get herself in order she rushed to her closet dropping the towel and pulled a burnt orange velvet (that was verging on a light red) long sleeved dress from the racks, she slipped it over her curvy figure. The dress was undoubtedly a favorite for her. It was basically a turtle neck at the top, gripping her delicate throat in a soft sheath, it then settled high above her knees, the back dropping dangerously low, showing off her small waist which then lead to her round ass and toned thighs. Modesty ultimately losing, it’s only territory... an inch above her ass.

 

Yamcha sat in the Briefs driveway.  
The rain was starting to spatter on his windshield.  
The drops alternating between thick bulbous splashes and subtle almost soft specks. 

There was a wilting bouquet of flowers on the passenger seat of his bright red sports car. It had been almost 6 hours since Bulma had emotionally crushed him and left him at the diner. Even slightly more sadly the flowers he was going to give to the blue haired scientist had actually been bought a day earlier for his ‘other’ friend.  
This ‘other friend’, was a girl he knew who happened to also considered him in hot water (much the same as Bulma considered him) …specifically because she knew about Yamcha’s long time girlfriend from the media. And she wanted Bulma out of the picture for good…or she threatened to end things for real with the minor league baseball champ.  
Yamcha had littered distrust around him like pollution in a ocean. 

However today all this felt different to Yamcha. After losing Bulma he felt more than a little unsettled. He was willing to and also wanted to make up with her more than anyone else. Unlocking his car door, he stepped out, white shoes crunching on the gravel. Bending, the scarred faced fighter reached over to grab the sub par bouquet that was across his seat, swallowing he stood back up with a gulp of hesitation, he took a step forward. 

BAM!  
Lights exploded like fireworks behind Yamcha’s eyes. The bouquet was immediately dropped and lost to him. He knew he’d been struck. His eyes closed as he bounced and hit the concrete.  
Then without a pause a solid piece of iron fed his jaw again.  
It threw him back a minimum of 20 feet. 

“Why are you here?!?” A deep rough voice asked him, he could tell the voice was very close as he tried to see straight. 

Before he could look up to respond, a solid fist connected without mercy to his face yet again in a up chuck, connecting with his lower jaw this time, sending him another 30 feet up and then down the drive way. The rain was starting to come down hard now. Yamcha was feeling every drop on his skin, and he knew what was happening. He didn’t even have to look at his assailant to know who’s fist was licking his skin. Then the rain started coming down so hard that he could barely see his surroundings. He knew though... Vegeta was fine in any weather, he didn’t suffer from the same environmental weaknesses.

“Vegeta! Stop!” He yelled. 

“Never!” Vegeta kicked him the gut. “Why are you here?!?” He roared again. 

“ I DON’T KNOW!” He stupidly answered. Of course he knew, he was here for Bulma. But the Prince was seriously freaking him out. Why was he acting like a over protective guard dog.  
Vegeta grabbed the weakling by the hair and dragged him several feet, ultimately losing patience after a few brief moments, letting him go instead and with a quick twist of his hand he opted to grip Yamcha one handed by the cheeks. He lifted him more than slightly essentially forcing Yamcha to gaze upon his own exquisite features.  
No doubt Yamcha’s cheeks were already painful being plumped up between Vegeta’s fingers, however the Prince only continued to painfully squeeze his face together, “ I said WHY are you here?!?” 

Vegeta was taunting him. He had a pretty good idea why Yamcha was on the Briefs lawn in the middle of a serious down pour. But Vegeta was clearly enjoying watching him squirm. The woman may not be officially claimed, and Vegeta honestly may not even like her, but he was still trying to figure that part out. He didn’t need vermin like the weakling in his way while he did just that. Besides he didn’t think he could even stand the woman if she carried a different mans scent on her now. 

Yamcha was about to tell him that he was leaving, but Vegeta didn’t wait for it. He moved his hand lightening fast and grabbed the warrior by the throat, his fingers slowly compressing harder and harder. Flying up to about 15feet, he lifted Yamcha to this new height with him, his legs dangling. Rain poured over both of them. Yamcha was almost out of air when….

“Get. The. Fuck. GONE.” Vegeta growled at the man, and then dropped him without what seemed any thought to the mans humanness. 

Yamcha hit the ground with a sick thud and without skipping a beat he painfully limped to his car, a hand wrapping and rubbing around his neck choking for air, terrified. Vegeta watched as he rushed pathetically to his sad excuse for transport. He continued to watch as the weakling collected himself and left the property. Then Vegeta finally allowed himself to settle enough to land back on the ground. ‘Good riddance’ he thought. Maybe he would fuck the woman again tonight just for good measure. 

Satisfaction was washing over his being, gently though like soft waves hesitant to come to shore. Why did he just do that? He was about to leave his room for dinner when he felt Yamcha’s ki approaching. He then had reacted quickly and without much thought. All he had paused to consider was why the weakling would be here (and he had a feeling he knew why) and what that could possibly mean for him…and for Bulma.

 

Flying to the front of the house, rain lightly coming down around him he saw the young man stand from his car, reach in and pull out a clump of flowers. Vegeta knew by now from his time spent on Earth what that clump of flowers meant. Mates gave and received clumps of flowers from each other as a sign of affection or preference. This sat very very unwell with Vegeta, so much so the first thing the Prince felt was fury and then the second was his fist connecting with Yamcha’s cheek. Admittedly it was a sucker punch. Vegeta had come up fast and hard and hit him from the side, Yamcha never saw it coming, but honestly neither did Vegeta. For the smallest fraction of a second the Prince was surprised at himself. Once contact was made however Vegeta relished the sensation, the long awaited moment he could punch the fucker clean across his face. Then he wanted more, to hit him again and again as the strange awkward painful gripping sensation of seeing Bulma laughing with Yamcha in the picture came rushing back to him full force. Then before he was fully aware, his reactions still preceding his actual actions he came to the conclusion that he was moments away from killing Yamcha, his hand in a death grip around the scarred faced warriors neck, Yamcha’s thin lips turning blue, his face bright red and puffy with pressure. Vegeta knew death was close, his grip was such that he was probably going to snap his neck long before he would actually die from lack of oxygen, simultaneously the image of a tear streaked Bulma crossed his mind and he let go immediately. Yamcha then struggled to leave in a hurry, Vegeta choosing not to land until his car tail lights were fading across the boundary of the property. 

He looked at his hands, soaked, palms up. What is happening to me? Thoughts swirling around like a hurricane. He felt unbelievably conflicted at his success at the ability to keep any and all possible suitors away while also wondering why he did that with what seemed like not much choice on the rational thinking part of his mind. He turned back to the house, wondering if this was how it was supposed to be. For now he was going to have to settle on the notion of ‘fuck it’, his hunger was becoming very real and verging on almost actually killing someone.  
Well he hoped it was because he was hungry. 

 

Bulma sat across from a randomly soaking wet Prince. He was currently whole heartedly devoting himself to the insane feast her mother had had prepared for them.  
Seriously? Thought Bulma.  
It was a Sunday night, why was there so much food? Vegeta didn’t seem to care, he was like an insane dragon enjoying what an outsider would think must be his last meal. Also he had showed up late, covered in….rain? She wasn’t sure why he was wet, she knew it had started to rain outside but was that why he was wet? Why was he outside? Especially when he had taken the effort to wear the nice clothes Bulma’s mother had bought for him. He offered no explanation, as per his usual, he just sat down and began eating as if it was the last supper for forever. Admittedly he looked exceptionally handsome, almost like the best thing Bulma had ever laid eyes on. She now realized that she was fascinated by him, in every way.  
But again…why was he all wet? 

With a confused motion Bulma paused her eating and looked under the table noticing a puddle had collected under his chair from the drips of water coming off his cloths. 

“Okay! Vegeta, why are you wetter than a drowned rat?” Bulma asked crossing her arms.

Vegeta put a chicken wing in his mouth and pulled it out with only the bone remaining behind. Then another. “I took out the trash, and it’s raining.” He said casually. 

Panchy’s hands clapped together! She smiled so wide her eyes had to close to make room for her mouth. “Oh Vegeta! Your such a hunk! And your helpful with the household chores too! Wow, my Bulma is so lucky to have you!” 

Then it seemed like her mother had collapsed into a fantasy again, little hearts may have well been floating about her head. 

Both Bulma and Dr Briefs stared at his wife with a sort of dumbfounded look. Vegeta glared so hard at the Briefs matriarch they all thought he was genuinely trying to kill her with his gaze alone. Which actually he probably was trying to do just that Bulma would of surmised. 

Sighing that she wasn’t going to get a decent answer from him and being tired of the charade she turned her attention to her father. 

“Daddy, while your gone I’m hoping to finish the Systematic Data Telelocater, all that’s left is the shell to protect it from the heat of the generator and possible radiation exposure. I’ve been looking into this since the beginning but I just have to put it into motion. I imagine it will be ready by the time your back.” Bulma said enthusiastically. She was more excited about this than anyone, she felt like the project was her current ‘baby’ so to speak. 

Dr Briefs was trying to eat as fast as possible before Vegeta could get all of it. The Briefs household ate meals family style, as in all the food was placed in large dishes at the center of the table and everyone would help themselves and share. Vegeta ate with such vigor it made the sharing part hard to uphold.  
“That’s lovely dear. No rush however, I know all good things come with good time. You have my trust.” He said between mouthfulls of unagi sashimi. 

The rest of the meal finished without incident, then Bulma puttered around in the kitchen with her mother afterwards while the bags were being packed into the car and her father grabbed last minute things. Vegeta had wandered away somewhere, and maybe Bulma was just trying to stall until she was alone again with the Prince. 

“I love you, and you know how to reach us Bulma, but only if you need us. Your father and I need some time alone. But really we must be leaving now. I’m glad you enjoyed dinner. Don’t let Vegeta blow up the GR again.” Panchy said with a sweet smile kissing her daughter on the cheek.

Bulma followed her mother into the hallway and then to the front door where her father was collecting his jacket and umbrella. The rain had stopped while they ate but her father was always precautionary. Having waved them goodbye from the front steps, Bulma crossed her arms and leaned against the open door frame watching their car disappear, the light of the house silhouetting her body, the air smelled amazing from the recent rainstorm and Bulma closed her eyes for a moment and enjoyed the evening atmosphere. Just before turning to go back inside the light from the entryway splaying out in front of her she noticed something on the ground, a misshapen lump. She walked across the gravel driveway that led to the front entrance of the Briefs home. Coming upon the item she realized it was a wilting bouquet of white lilies. Not her favorite, but still pretty despite the fact they were past their prime. She picked them up and looked all around her, everything was still, crickets chirped and she could hear traffic in the far off distance. She felt alone, but was at a loss as to why these were here in the first place. There was no card either. Confused for the second time tonight she turned and walked back inside with the bouquet in hand. 

Bulma found herself lingering in the foyer again, fingering the delicate petals and not knowing what to do next. Eventually deciding on having a drink she walked back to the kitchen where three bots were zipping around cleaning up. The lilies were wilting but Bulma felt she could still perhaps get a few more days out of them if they could just get some water. From the pantry she produced a crystal vase that had been a part of a Valentines gift from Yamcha a few years ago. She filled it with water and some plant food that her mother kept under the sink for all the household plants. Rearranging the sad flowers she placed them in the vase on the dining table. Stepping back she contemplated that if this didn’t help revive them then they would be tossed out in the morning. 

Satisfied yet still perplexed she made her way to the fridge opening the door and skimming the crowded shelves spotted a six pack of beer that was actually meant for her father, (Bulma was not much a beer drinker anymore) she decided to help herself. Grabbing the entire pack of beer she walked outside to the garden at the back of the house. The air smelled even better back here with her mothers flowers relishing and soaking up the recent moisture. There were a few chairs under an awning that had been, lucky for her, immune to the recent rain and were still dry. She pulled one of them out onto the back lawn so she could look up at the night sky. 

Bulma was surprised when Vegeta showed up so quickly. This time however, she felt his presence before she saw him. He came up silently beside her while she sat under the clear night sky. The rain had cleaned the air and the stars seemed to shine extra bright. She tipped the mouth of the beer to her lips and took a gulp then turned and smiled at him. 

“Hello Vegeta. Want a beer?” She asked.  
He gave her a curt nod, she handed him a cold brown glass bottle. Bulma wondered if Vegeta had ever had a beer, she was sure he had seen one though many times before, but drank one? No clue. Then by the ease of which he opened it with the bottle opener Bulma could only assume he had. There was a moment of silence.  
“Dinner was good.” Bulma said only slightly fishing for conversation. More wondering why he was here, drinking beer, and not talking. He had changed out of his wet clothes she noticed. Instead he modeled a pair of heather gray sweat pants, a black V-neck t-shirt and he was barefooted. She took another big swig looking at him out the corner of her eye, thinking how incredibly sexy he looked with one hand behind his head the other holding the beer, his gaze transfixed on the starry river above them. 

“Hm.” He said never looking away from the sky. 

Bulma rolled her eyes at his nonchalance.  
“Vegeta, ya know if your out here trying to figure out how to tell me that you regret what happened. It’s fine, you can save your breath.”

At this comment, Vegeta finally tore his gaze away from the stars and gave her a sideways glance himself as she sat curled into the chair next to him. She looked serene and pretty. Even in the nighttime she had a soft glow that surrounded her. He let his sights subtly rest on her soft plump lips, remembering the feel of them, he wanted to lean down cup her chin and kiss her again. But wait, what did the woman just say? That he regretted what happened? Tch, regret. What did she know of regret. Their little romp was anything but a regret.

“What we did could never compare to the true feeling of a real regret. Besides it wasn’t all that bad” Vegeta only added the last part because he secretly wanted to know if she thought it was bad. Did she like it? Did she’d regret it? He suddenly found himself holding his breath while he waited for her to speak. He wasn’t even sure what answer he wanted. Part of him wanted her to hate it all, because that feeling was the most familiar to him. 

Bulma paused before speaking, she had to think. Did Vegeta just say that not only did he not regret what happened, but that it was actually possible that he may have enjoyed it? He did say it wasn’t bad, but he also didn’t say it was good. Still, Bulma taking another sip of beer decided to risk it and to take it as a good thing.  
“So, it wasn’t bad for ya big guy? Well it wasn’t that bad for me either. Maybe we should both keep up the good work?” She smiled a little, not wanting to be the one who gave to much away, not wanting to be the only one who loved what had happened. 

It was dark out, so Bulma couldn’t see fine details very clearly but she would of bet her entire fortune that Vegeta had just let out a held breath and smiled for the briefest of moments. Her stomach filled with butterflies. 

No longer feeling like he was hanging off the cliff of vulnerability Vegeta tried to silently hide his exhale while his low belly began again to fill with that wonderful warm pooling sensation.. She did like it. He knew it, not only that but she just offered herself up to him, to take his cock again. His ego did a backflip and he felt a surge of power course through his whole body he was sure in this moment he could conquer the whole universe.  
“Of course it wasn’t bad for you, you got fucked by a Prince. I have no doubts it was the best you’ve ever had.” Vegeta finished his beer and threw the bottle into the air blasting it with his ‘one well aimed shot of energy’ trick, leaving nothing to fall back to the ground. Bulma at this point was not fazed by this kind of abrupt use of his energy and just handed him another cold glass bottle. 

Then she giggled, she could slightly tell that Vegeta was attempting to put on an arrogant front to prove that he wasn’t actually nervous and fishing for approval of his performance. She’d never tell him, but she knew he cared what she thought of him.  
“Maybe you were the best I’ve ever had…maybe you weren’t.” She said, deciding to have a little fun with the Prince. 

Vegeta not exactly picking up on Bulma’s playful flirtation tensed at her words. His empty hand curling into a fist, growling softly words flooded out of his mouth.  
“You mean to say that you could compare me, the Prince of all Sayians, to that pathetically weak excuse for a mate. I am better than him in every conceivable way. Just this very evening I fought him and removed him from our home, proving yet again that I am superior.” Vegeta finished his short speech and drank his entire bottle in 3 big gulps then blasting it away just like the first one. The warm feeling in his gut from just a moment ago now giving way to sharp shards of ice threatening to push into what felt like his heart space. He didn’t understand this feeling, he just knew Bulma had the power to make him feel it. Just another thing that he hated about the woman he noticed. 

“You what!? You removed him? You fought him? Yamcha was here!?” Bulma nearly choked on the beer in her mouth questions falling out in a random order, ultimately just showing how scattered her thoughts had become. Her mind was suddenly going a million miles per second. In addition she decided she would have to address later the fact that Vegeta had called Capsule Corp ‘our home’, for now she needed to figure out exactly what had happened earlier this evening between the two warriors. Even now she would of bet her life that Vegeta probably knew something about the bouquet she had found. 

“Vegeta! Explain yourself!” She snapped, her heart pounding madly. 

Vegeta wouldn’t even turn to face her, but she could see his anger in his face.  
“Never tell me what to do woman! If you must know the weakling showed up here and he had a clump of dead looking flowers, which I assumed he was going to give to you. Unworthy. I approached him, punched him in the face and made him leave.” Vegeta said quickly trying to keep the explanation as brief as possible. Knowing that he was possibly in deep shit for his outburst. Even worse he didn’t know how to explain it. Not to her…not even to himself. 

“But why!? The woman screeched. “Why would you do that? Your not my boyfriend Vegeta, I can see whomever I want!!” Bulma was almost mad now. “Only people in a relationship can have those kinds of boundaries!! Your NOT my boyfriend! And if you don’t want Yamcha around and that’s honestly how you feel then, maybe you should just be my boyfriend and save everyone all his drama and trouble!” Bulma was not being serious, she was just trying to simply make a point. She was positive that Vegeta did not understand the rituals and rules of dating in terms of earthlings. However she didn’t care, he was on earth and she expected and also demanded to be held to earth standards and traditions. Screw him if he didn’t get it. She crossed her arms and turned away from him with a scoff. 

Vegeta wasn’t sure exactly what a boyfriend was, he assumed it was like a mate, but less eternal, without the binding of souls to one another, without the actual act of claiming. He could be her boyfriend sure, but why?” A mate is the only true way, the only real way, he knew that for sure. He knew he’d felt the need to claim her before and something in him told him that he would feel the compulsion again. Despite the overwhelming need to claim, he thought that maybe for now being a ‘boyfriend’ (whatever the fuck that was) would be a easy and less complicated way to buy some more time while he figured out if this is what he actually wanted. He was never fully indoctrinated into Sayian mating and a lot of things that were true to his culture were lost now and he had no one to ask about it. He was left grasping at straws. Plus it seemed that if he was understanding the woman correctly, if he was her ‘boyfriend’ she would keep her away from Yamcha (and apparently other males) without it being an issue. If he was understanding her correctly. 

“Fine.” He said crossing his arms. 

“Fine? Fine? Like, y-y-you want to be my boyfriend?” Bulma was sort of yelling, but also half laughing in disbelief, but only because this was the most ridiculous situation. Was Bulma going insane?? Did Vegeta just agree to her rhetorical and sarcastic question? Bulma suddenly felt like she was suspended in air, or that maybe her soul was leaving her body to look down upon them and make sure this was really happening. Or to laugh at her naivety, she just couldn’t tell.

“Why do I have to repeat myself?” He snapped at her clearly annoyed. They both fell quite. 

Moments upon moments of silence developed between them. It felt like miles. Then she realized Vegeta wasn’t going to move an inch in anyway, until she said something first. 

Bulma took a big breath, she knew what she wanted to say, but the trepidation she felt was almost enough to stop a army in their pursuit of the enemy. She couldn’t seem to separate her possible feelings from the possible outcome, being the eternal optimist she gulped and said…  
“Okay Vegeta, you can be my boyfriend. If that’s what you want.” The words but a whisper, still not understanding how this happened but definitely sure the Prince had no idea what he just agreed to. 

Vegeta nodded his approval. The shards of ice backing away from his heart and melting rapidly. He fixed that problem he supposed. Then Bulma started laughing loudly, throwing her head back and a hand on her stomach, she started laughing so hard a tear escaped her eye. 

“You punched Yamcha?” The laughter continued. “Kami I wish I could of seen that, he was probably terrified…and confused I’m sure. Good job Veggie, he deserved it.” She wiped another final tear of laughter away. 

Vegeta smiled a little, he knew that Yamcha deserved it but couldn’t guess why Bulma agreed. He also knew that he had gone more than overboard, he had more than just punched him, he full out assulted and almost murdered her ex lover. But he wasn’t going to tell her that. At least not right now, it’s not like he was ashamed of it.   
“He was terrified.” Vegeta admitted out loud chuckling a little himself. He was relieved that she was pleased with him. 

“Well let’s finish these beers mkay, then I’ll need to get to bed, I want a early start in the lab tomorrow.” She handed him another and opened one for herself. Unexpectedly for both of them they talked for awhile longer, Bulma explained her current project to Vegeta and it turns out Vegeta could be a good conversationalist provided he considered the subject matter worthy of him. He then showed off his knowledge of the stars, some of their names, and interesting facts he had picked up in his interstellar travels, then finally in almost a vulnerable way the direction of where planet Vegeta would have been located had it not been destroyed. This caused Bulma’s heart to break a little, her silence at not knowing how to console him, or her question of if he wanted to be consoled, inevitably led them into a somewhat awkward silence. Not knowing what to do, but not wanting him to feel alone she stood up and on her tip toes leaned in to lightly kiss him on his cheek. Bulma swore she saw him blush, but it was dark out and it wouldn’t be the first time she let her mind play tricks on her. 

“Well I think I should go to sleep now.” She said with a long yawn. Vegeta blasted the rest of the empty bottles and their cardboard carrier into oblivion. Turning to face him, she was unexpectedly scooped up in his arms. 

“Whoa there, where are we going?” She asked as they took off into the air.  
His arms left bare by his short sleeves had brushed against her thighs as gravity lost its hold on her, his skin was smooth and hot as it held her to him. His gaze was even hotter. 

“You said you were ready for sleep.” 

“I am, are you taking me to bed?” She whispered. Feeling delusional and at the same time like a princess. 

He gave her one small nod. A moment later they touched down on her balcony and he let her slide from his arms. She opened her balcony doors and he followed her in. She turned on the lights.

“Are you going to stay with me tonight?” asking with hesitation, the question was going out on a limb, (a very weak and small limb) only really asking because he had taken the time to bring her to bed. 

 

“No. Why would I do that?” He sounded confused and definitely annoyed. Vegeta may have agreed to be her boyfriend now, but what did that even really mean he thought, it was only to keep the others away so he could figure his own shit out. Plus he’d seen Yamcha in this role for as long as he knew the woman and the weakling had given him the impression that not much was required from this status. 

“Okay, never mind. Good night Vegeta. See you tomor—” but he was gone, her bedroom door open from his swift exit. He moved so fast when he wanted to. Even though he didn’t want to stay, Bulma couldn’t help feel like she was floating. Never ever would she of expected this to happen with the Prince. Not just the hot sex, but the development of suddenly having him as her boyfriend. In the same fucking day. Kami she thought, if the rest of the Z fighters knew, their jaws would all break from dropping and hitting the ground that hard. Honestly she could barely wrap her mind around it herself. Maybe she needed a hot shower.

Finally Vegeta entered his room and relinquished the notion that he could keep going for the day.  
He was more tired than he expected.  
He needed to sleep.  
If he went to bed now he could be in the GR by 4am.  
Smiling at this thought he undressed and was passed out within minutes.


	9. Absofuckinglutely

The sun had just began crowning over the Briefs property wall, a few birds began to chirp and the clock on Bulma’s ivory white nightstand ticked over to 5:30am, immediately a loud abrasive beeping followed and it sharply broke the peaceful morning stillness. Summoned by the noise a small soft disembodied arm appeared from underneath a lavender comforter, reaching out, a few fingers fumbled, clearly looking to find the snooze button.  
Unsuccessfully and then accidentally the fumbling hand ended up knocking the small clock off the table, soft thuds indicated it was bouncing away on the carpet. The tiny clock had fallen to the floor well out of arms length and the sound continued on unencumbered. Whimpering at this unfortunate development Bulma appeared grumpily face first from under the blankets. She pushed herself up and rubbed her sleep heavy eyes, the heavy fabric of the comforter sliding off her petite body. The sun was scarcely up itself she noticed peering out the window, a barely there pale pink sky surrounded a bright yellow orb as it continued its entrence over the property wall.  
Giving in to the protruding light and incessant beeping that still sounded from the tiny clock a few feet away she decided it best to just get the day started. 

Twenty minutes later Bulma stepped out of the shower feeling much more vibrant and alive, the mark on her neck was finally starting to fade she’d noticed glancing in the giant steam covered mirror. In a more honest way she admitted she was getting really tired of finding clothing to cover it. Remembering her parents were gone she felt the relief that followed the realization that she would not have to try and hide it. With this thought she lazily towel dried her hair ultimately putting it up in a tight but still reasonably messy bun where it would finish drying on its own. Then dressing in a pair of tight light blue jeans that made her ass look like a juicy peach and a casual yet fitted low cut V-neck white t shirt that fitted her hourglass figure perfectly. She eyed herself with a grin, yeah she looked good. She usually did.  
With a deep and gratifying yawn she happily stood from her vanity and straightened up for a equally gratifying stretch and thus began her mission to the kitchen. Eagerly she anticipated that hot cup of coffee that was now only minutes away. 

The kitchen was clean and silent, early morning light bounced off the eggshell white countertops which cultivated a soft and peaceful atmosphere around her, no one could of guessed a Saiyan had eaten here just hours earlier, and actually she noticed it didn’t seem like the storm that was Prince Vegeta had been through here yet this morning either, which was odd for that early bird. 

Bulma noted the lilies on the table now looked much healthier and were no longer hanging their petals depressingly. Hands resting on the smooth wooden table, her weight leaning in slightly, she could smell their lovely gentle fragrance, they even smelled like mystery, for the first time ever she noticed their scent was beguiling yet alluring for some reason. Still despite their intoxicating capacity she couldn’t help but acknowledge the confusion that surrounded their source, she remained nonetheless pleased that her efforts to save them were not in vain. 

A short while later she had been leaning on the counter elbows resting and her chin cupped in one hand with her eyes closed fighting the sleep that threatend to take her standing up, a timer sounded and she was jerked back to her senses. The scent of fresh coffee permeated the air and with her growing awareness she felt the early sunlight from the bay windows touch her fingers…she poured hot coffee into the biggest mug she could find. Then as she decided to just bring the whole darn pot with her a small purple robot appeared at knee height and gently bumped several times against her leg demanding attention. In addition to the gentle yet repeated bumps the bot was concurrently offering her a full plate of toast garnished with blueberry jam. This was her fathers favorite and clearly meant for him. She took advantage of the bots ignorant confusion at her fathers absence and also unnecessary generosity as she whisked the plate of jellied toast from the bots tiny clutches, then with hands full she let herself outside and walked across the lawn on the little paved path that wreathed the property. A path which eventually broke off leading to the entrance of her and her fathers lab. Speaking the code into the intercom (instead of having to punch the numbers into the keypad) the door hissed open, she silently complimented herself for the thousandth time on the concept to make the door voice activated in addition to just the manual option. 

The ride down to underground lab was short and quiet (the usual) and Bulma was zealous to begin, she very much desired to finally finish this project and ideally today. The Briefs lab was a phenomenal place, well for a scientist it was pretty close to a dream come true. The lab was spacious, in fact for the most part it was just one big room with high ceilings to help with the cramped feeling of being underground. There were doors to 8 smaller rooms that ran along the back and left sidewall, these were mainly used for experiments that needed to be done in various controlled environments. As far as equipment went however, Bulma and her father had either invented, procured, or imitated any and all possible required machines. Thick clumps of insulated wires were strewn across the floor like small streams leading to different machines. Lastly, because the Briefs could simulate almost any environment, Space, Earth, or otherwise there was a whole wall dedicated to different bodily apparel which was designed to protect the experimenter. The very center of the main room made space for a exceptionally large circular desk. Bulma’s work space took up one half and her fathers took over the other, in comparison to each other’s Bulma’s was a cluttered mess. She worked well in those conditions however, claiming it to be a mess yes, but an organized one. Placing her things down on stacks of paper, she reached one hand for her lab coat and struggled a little to put it on because she was simultaneously trying to munch a slice of the toast with the other. 

Sitting at her computer, she powered it up and punched in her 56 letter password, nibbled another toast slice and gulped more coffee. Swiveling around she turned on the remaining monitors that were connected to the security system cameras. Several screens flickered and came to life at once, she skimmed them quickly whilst throwing back more coffee and specifically looking for the feed that connected the happenings in the GR to her lab. Fully expecting to see Vegeta in the middle of his training she was unexpectedly surprised when the camera showed an empty GR. 

‘Hmm, how odd, I wonder if he is actually still sleeping’, the silent question resounding disbelieving in her mind, she looked at the clock and it read 6:24am. Immediately annoyed at herself for checking and more annoyed at not seeing a very sexy Saiyan Prince working out hard she decided that Vegeta was currently nothing but a HUGE distraction to the work she had planned for that day. With only a moments hesitation she turned off the camera feed and set herself to her own work.

 

Vegeta sat up in his bed with a start literally the moment a ray of sunshine caressed his closed eyelids. He immediately knew he had slept well past his normal time to begin training.  
Fuck!  
Fuck!  
Fuck!  
Internally he was screaming at himself about discipline, but outwardly he just yelled obscenities to no one in particular. Changing quickly into fresh armor that Bulma had just finished making and given to him a few days prior he didn’t bother to even leave the house properly as he jumped and flew off the balcony, seconds later landing at the entrance to the GR. It was almost 7am, he had lost almost 3 hours of training already. He had to figure he was more sleep deprived than he had initially realized. Powering up the up GR he then followed suit by powering up himself, deciding to skip his warm up entirely he intrepidly pumped up the gravity. It was pushing 400g’s, higher than he was used too but he was pissed at himself so he paid no mind. 

Thirty minutes in and Vegeta was throwing punches and kicks in a cornucopia of combinations at hundreds of bee sized bots, it was a new training regime Bulma had creatively thought up. Thus, collaboratively every few moments a unsuspecting wall gun would shoot high powered blasts at him, these were designed to be random while also mathematically deducting the targets most neglected and ignored side and shooting at this weakness. This was a training program designed to teach its pupil to be fully aware of all sides in equal measure simultaneously despite speed or strength of the attacker. By the end of the hour Vegeta was sweating heavily but was euphoric for some reason, energy seemed to be sprouting from an invisible fountain inside of him, it felt endless and powerful. Maybe the blue haired bitch was worth some small significance after all. Feeling exceptionally confident he landed briefly at the main control panel while all programs were on hold and skimmed the handbook that Bulma had given him, it was a list of a hundred or so different training programs, all catalogued by the tolerance of the pupil in conjunction to different G’s of Earths norm. He skipped to the 500g’s section and picked the very last training code available to him, to be noted, all sections were also categorized by easiest to hardest. He pictured Bulma laughing at the thought of him attempting this program, her smile aglow behind the pale blue light of a computer screen while she planned this one. Her ridiculous attempts at thwarting his power or potential were to be squashed right now like the infinitesimal ideas they were, he was to be a serious contender in the slot for “Most Powerful of The Universe.” He smiled at himself, taunted all his opposers mentally and punched in the activation code, something was different about today, there was no stopping the Prince today. 

_______________________________________

 

He was going to be legendary. HE ABSOLUTELY HAD TO FUCKING BE, IT WAS DESTINED. 

It was inescapable and ordained, nothing…not Frieza, not his home being destroyed, not Kakarot or his son, and most especially not a blue haired bitch could keep him from what he was absolutely and irrevocably destined for. 

Yet.  
The Prince fell to his knees, his hands crushed their own prints into the steel floor (again), his breath was labored, and a small drop of water escaped his eye…

It was almost 10pm and what had started and continued for most of the day as a incredible training session had been waining fast the past few hours. He had been sure today was going to be the day he turned legendary, he had never felt before the energy surge he experienced earlier….he was sure. However now that the sun had set the only thing he was sure of was his sour mood and the remarkable hunger he felt at having not eaten in almost over 24 hours. He craved to kill and eat the first thing he laid eyes on. Maybe he would. Sending one last blast at a bot, and despite his tired aim it was still a direct hit, the bot fell smoldering to the floor landing with a reverberating crash into the rigid steel of the GR. 

Bulma yawned a yawn so deep that her face which was resting on the cool metal surface of her desk actually felt pulling as if it was fused or even liquefied to the table itself. She struggled to keep her eyes open. Perhaps it was time to call it a day, or a night, or whatever. She felt confident and trusting in her final product, so much so that she wanted to present it to the board as soon as possible. The outer shell turned out exceptionally better than planned, the data locater system itself was exactly as she hoped it would be. Accurate and uninterrupted in signal detection. She was a scientist and a inventor and today she felt like she deserved both titles. Having worked without a break for 14 hours only backing off after she felt like everything was officially completed. Hence why she was now resting her face on the desk with no shame. Really though, with a cute cheek smooshing against the flat desk surface she was undeniably aware that there was no celebration waiting for her down here, 88 feet below the surface. Eyes accidentally fluttering, opening less each second and closing more with each flutter. Yawning and without much more thought she casually peeled her perfect skin off the table, turned off all equipment and rode the elevator back up to the surface.

The back door of the main house slide open with a muffled ease, the door giving into a yielding softness that Bulma always loved. She glided through the threshold while in unison slipping out of her shoes and gently placing them to the side of the entrance. Stepping on the thick and pliant entrance carpet it’s plushness seeped through her toes. Her foot steps were consequently quiet on the soft sumptuous carpet as she walked through the back hallway passing empty dark rooms. Rooms which inevitably led to the main hallway, there she saw the illumination of a occupied kitchen shining out into the hallway in front of her, a delicate arch of light. She was initially drawn here by a hunger her stomach wanted sated but she knew the only reason the kitchen was alight now was because a certain Saiyan Prince happened to be occupying it. Perhaps now she would stay because a different hunger possibly was rumbling through her. Shifting slightly in unexpected hesitation, her panties actually slightly dampening at the real and exciting possibilities that may lay before her, she organized herself and prepared to walk through the golden lighted arch. Did she want to feel the Prince again so soon? 

Absofuckinglutely.

Stopping momentarily at the full length mirror that was at the end of the hallway she let her hair down from its twisted messy knot that was atop her head, it fell and cascaded around her face in gentle waves, it smelled like pears from her shower that morning. Only having a tube of cherry chapstick that was produced from her pocket she ran it twice over her full lips. Double checking her appearance she was satisfied that even in casual clothing she still had a sexy air about her. Oddly nervous despite and actually because of all that had already transpired between them, she quietly cleared her throat and entered the kitchen. Her first sight was of a very immaculate Saiyan ass sticking out from a large open chrome fridge door, bits of flying food coming out around him like little asteroids. Her hands casually came to her mouth and tried to stifle a small avalanche of giggles which actually escaped her effortlessly. Surprisingly Vegeta had neglected to feel her ki enter and the delicate sound of her laugh caused him to halt abruptly in his actions, turning with his mouth stuffed and face lightly red he pulled back from the fridge and looked at her incredulously. His cheeks were plump with contents of what looked liked, (based on what one of his arms was currently wrapped around and his other hand grasping) a half eaten chicken and its dismembered leg. 

“If your that hungry, I can make you something proper? My Prince?” She teased cutely as she rested both elbows on the counter top, her small chin finding refuge in one of her delicate palms, her eyes were wide and eager, her heart felt open and she gazed upon the princely being. More so curious to see how he responded to her softly spoken and gentle terms of endearments. He could be such a toughie. 

 

Earlier that day..... -----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A heavly muscled arm hung off the side of a jean blue colored scratchy cloth sofa. It happen to belong to a scarred faced warrior who was dozing soundlessly, or seemingly so seeing as he was face down in a soft pillow. It was late morning but the curtains were still drawn making the tiny apartment seem dark even more cave like than it sadly already was. A atmosphere of despair hung in the air and cans of soda and empty bottles of beer littered almost any available surface. The air inside was stale and infinitesimal sized dust motes could be seen floating in the narrow rays of sunshine that had managed to peak through the slats of the faded white plastic blinds that hung over the sliding glass door. A small blue cat shifted uneasily in its sleep next to the man, its tiny claws pulling at the fabric comfortingly. Then for the 5th time in the past hour, beneath mounds of empty fast food wrappers and Chinese food containers on the coffee table a soft vibration began to sound and pulse then pausing briefly every few moments before starting again. The blue cat shifted again now more restlessly and sleepily opened its eyes his attention falling to the table. 

“Yamcha. Yamcha, wake up.” The blue cat poked his very best friends head a few times.

There was a muffled response because Yamcha didn’t bother to lift his head away from the pillow, it did sound something like “its to early, leave me alone”, or maybe it was “I don’t care about the phone.” Either way Puar was tired of this song and dance and felt like it was time for Yamcha to wake up, and this time to more than just sleep.

“Yamcha! Get up its later than you think!" Puar said simply yet sternly crossing his tiny arms. Seeing that Yamcha wasn’t going to even bother responding now, he flew to the sliding glass door and while twisting a small rod the blinds opened fully, now uninhibited the late morning sun flooded in over everything, and most importantly over Yamcha’s face. Instantly the room took on a different feel, not a less depressing one however. If anything the detail of the chaos and sadness was more profound in the light of day. 

Yamcha groaned as he felt the warmth of sunlight hit his head. The vibration from under the trash pile began to sound again. ‘Damnit!’ thought Yamcha angerily to himself. He wanted to sleep until the next century. Then maybe he would wake up and not care anymore. Not care about Bulma, not care about any woman for that matter. Also maybe he wouldn’t have the hangover that was currently putting all other hangovers to shame. He finally gave in and steadied himself to a seated position, nausea ripping through him. Puar landing on the arm of the couch (landing spaces were becoming more and more unavailable with all the trash everywhere) beside him. The vibration began again and Yamcha giving in started moving boxes and wrappers out of the way, hunting for the source of the sound. He found his cell phone under a half empty box of cold lo mein noodles with most of its remaining contents hanging out of it. His phone told him that is was 11:38 in the morning and that he had 6 missed calls, all from his coach. Immediately he knew he had missed practice again. His mouth felt dry and his throat reminded him of the desert sand from his youth.

Admittedly the past four days he was having a really hard time keeping his shit together. His face was still half swollen and stiff from Vegeta’s attack and his ribs were severely bruised and hurt like a explosion from being kicked. He didn’t evenn want to think about how fucked his neck was from Vegeta’s death grip. After having left Bulma’s house those few days prior he pretty much went on a complete bender, he was scarcely aware that he hadn’t had anything to drink other than soda, beer, and hard booze since then. Maybe a glass of water wouldn’t be the worst idea right now. His memory was fuzzy to the point where he couldn’t remember hours at a time from the past few days, in fact there were big gapping holes in his memory altogether. He stood, and immediately nausea gripped his stomach again, he felt lightheaded. Taking a deep breath and swallowing back what was most certainly a mouthful of vomit he slowly worked his way to the small kitchen, opening cabinet after cabinet looking for a clean glass to have a drink of water from. Ultimately but not surprisingly having no success with this. His apartment was filthy and there wasn’t going to be a clean glass or dish to be found. Sure Yamcha had always been a little messy but even he had to admit this was pretty bad. Finally he resorted to drinking out of the faucet. Resting his head on the counter by the edge of sink between gulps of water. After several long minutes and even longer gulps of water he surrendered and slumped to the kitchen floor, debating just passing out again, at least now the nausea was subsiding rather quickly. 

Puar watched all this with a heavy heart. This was his best friend and it was awful seeing him in such a state, he had tried to console the warrior several times but Yamcha wouldn’t listen, the sound of his heartbreaking was louder than any words Puar could speak. Yamcha may not have realized it this past week but he was incredibly fortunate to have Puar. 

Puar had watched over Yamcha the past four days the way a mother watches over a disobedient teenager. Puar had taken it upon himself to make sure Yamcha ate food instead of just drinking alcohol, made sure he didn’t pass out on that bench by the bus stop, and then at one point shifting his form to impersonate a police officer so he wouldn’t get arrested for public intoxication. Finally much to Puar’s terror Yamcha was so wasted he almost wandered into oncoming traffic at a stoplight, clearly not coherent enough to see the rush of vehicles in front of him. Or maybe thought Puar he had had other more depressing intentions, he tried not to think about that last part to hard. Now however Puar was at his wits end with this behavior. It was reckless, unsafe and completely unproductive. Other than the alcohol numbing Yamcha’s pain, it was doing literally nothing but making everything worse, and now to just add to the dysfunction they both lived in there was a disgusting mess surrounding them. Deciding now to try and talk some sense into him again, taking advantage of Yamcha’s somewhat current sober mind. 

He flew into the kitchen from across the room landing lightly on the floor by Yamcha’s foot.  
“Yamcha this has got to stop! I know your in pain but this behavior is only making things worse for you. You think if Bulma saw you like this she would want you back?” The cat squeaked angrily at him. 

“You don’t understand Puar, I loved her and I messed it up. She will never want me back no matter what I do.” Yamcha hung his head in his hands. 

“You don’t know that Yamcha. Yes you did royally mess up but are you just going to give up on everything, on yourself? She may never want you back, but there is no way to know that’s how all this will turn out, you can’t just destroy your own life. No one is worth that Yamcha! Besides she would be sad and ashamed to see you acting so weak!"

Yamcha wanted to argue, but those words did make sense to him. Puar was right, he knew he was right. Bulma may or may not want him back someday but he couldn’t just keep running from what happened, from what he did. If there was ever going to be the opportunity to be with Bulma again it wouldn’t happen if he kept this behavior up. Even more so, if she did disappear from his life he didn’t want his own existence to be destroyed by that.

“Puar your right…” he said softly lifting his head from his hands, tears had began to streak his cheeks. “I can’t make anything right for her or me like this!” A rush of positive intention coming over him, Puar’s words had acted like a salve for the pains of the open wound of his heart, he was going to prove to himself, Bulma, and everyone else that he was a warrior, strong in the face of adversities, and that he could hold himself accountable and still rise above his own mistakes, and most importantly over heartbreak.

“Yes that’s right Yamcha!” Puar pumped a little blue furry fist into the air. “We all make mistakes but it’s what we do about them that defines us! Let’s show everyone what your truly made of.” 

Yamcha nodded in agreement, he couldn’t just give up. Rising from the sticky and food stained floor tiles of his kitchen he walked back to the living room, surveying his surroundings he became embarrassed at himself. His living situation the past few days definitely showed where his mental state was lately, and it was not a pretty sight. Deciding now that he may not be able to wipe away the pain from his heart he could at least clean his apartment.  
He had to start somewhere. 

Walking to the living room window he undid the wooden latch and opened it fully, sticking his head outside he closed his eyes, the sun was bright and the air was fresh, there was the perfect salty breeze coming from the ocean which was only a couple of miles away. Taking a deep breath he continued to do this to every window in his apartment hoping to let in some more positive energy to his home and his heart, truly afraid that his desire to change and grow would disappear in a moment if it was trapped in this place any longer. Clinging to his resolve to better his life he grabbed the biggest trash bag he could find.

Many hours later…

Sitting on the couch with a fresh can of soda in his hand he looked around actually impressed with the job he just did. It had taken him almost four hours but there wasn’t a single bottle, can, or piece of trash anywhere in his apartment. He’d washed all his laundry and actually put the clean clothes in their proper place, cleaned every dish, glass and fork and the entire kitchen to boot (washed the floor too). He even washed all the windows and dusted everything. Once he started he couldn’t stop, with each new thing he cleaned he felt the smallest amount better. At least he was doing something positive. Plus the time he spent cleaning also gave him some time to clean up his thoughts too. The androids would be here in two years and time wasn’t going to stop or slow down for anyone. Feeling ashamed that he had spent so little time training while all the other Z fighters were working their butts off to keep everyone safe and to save the world. He realized he had been pretty selfish this past year, only playing baseball, drinking, and flirting with any girl who batted their eyelashes at him. Not even taking the time to check in on the rest of the gang and see how they were all doing. He had been a pretty absent friend these past 6 months.

A pang of regret hit his heart hard. He actually had been really selfish, especially when it came to Bulma. Even she was trying to help the Z fighters the best she could and instead of realizing this he just got frustrated because she had become more focused on that, making him fell like he was no longer the center of her world. He knew he could do nothing to change his and Bulma’s current status except maybe give it time. Making up his mind and vowing to himself that if and when they saw each other again, he was going to make sure she knew he was doing good. That he was still a warrior and still strong, and that maybe she would see in him again the desert bandit that had stolen her heart fourteen years ago. 

Lastly before Yamcha could claim he had finished cleaning his apartment he came the the ultimate conclusion that a return to the desert was in order, he needed to focus on his training, on healing his heart and also letting Bulma have the space she needed to heal the pain he caused her.  
“Puar the androids will be here in 2 years and I think we have some training to do. Whaddya say to going back to our old stomping ground for awhile?” He asked his most loyal friend with a small sad smile. 

“That’s a great idea Yamcha! When should we leave?” Puar asked flying around in an excited circle, wisely ignoring his depressing tone. 

“Today Puar. Today. I’ve wasted a lot of time this past year, no sense in wasting anymore I’d say.” 

“Woohoo!” Puar seemed exuberant at this recent development. 

With finality, Yamcha stood and headed to the bathroom for a seriously overdue shower, he was sure he smelled terrible. First things first however, he grabbed a pair of scissors and a electric razor, standing to face himself in the mirror he gave himself a much needed shave and haircut.  
Shortly there after he was wiping the condensation that had collected on the mirror from the steam of his shower with a small yellow towel. His appearance still looked rough tho, he had a fat lip and a wilting black eye, there was also a large purple and yellow bruise that wrapped around his torso from the kick that Vegeta had so generously given to him. Until this moment he hadn’t tried to figure out why Vegeta attacked him, he was actually afraid to explore those thoughts. Now though felt it was time to finally let himself wonder why, was something maybe going on between the Prince and his ex lover? Not understanding why he thought this he violently shook his head, as if he was trying to shake off an annoying bug…or a fire. That concept just seemed so ridiculous to him, yeah okay he had seen her on random occasions checking Vegeta out in the past but he had to believe that Bulma could never have feelings for that egotistical murdering terrorist asshole. Bulma may think of Yamcha as a selfish jerk but Yamcha was sure Vegeta was a way bigger asshole, and way more selfish than Yamcha could ever be. Right? But now…after the other night he was starting to have his doubts about where Bulma’s mind really was these days. Entertaining these kinds of thoughts made him feel physically sick, made him want to abandon his resolve to go the desert and just start drinking again. 

Taking a moment to calm himself he mentally talked himself off the ledge and stuck to his original plan. He grabbed a duffle bag and began to hurriedly pack items he would need for his and Puar’s leave of absence. He had to move quick, his emotions felt like dynamite, who knew when things would blow up. On a more positive note having quite a bit more money now, in fact a lot more than when he was a teenage bandit, he knew he wouldn’t have to trick others out of their livelihood anymore, those days were over thankfully, he would be able to focus solely on training. Leaning into his closet and grabbing several shirts at once out of haste his eyes caught on his hand gripping a old heavily blood stained shirt. One he forgot he had, and one he genuinely wished he had never remembered. Why did he even still have this?  
The blood wasn’t his, it was Vegeta’s. 

Pondering why he had even kept the disgusting thing he held it up in front of him for inspection and was reminded of thoughts, ones that returned cruelly in juggernaut force and began to swirl and take shape around him, that day several months ago, the day that cataclysmically changed Bulma and Yamcha’s relationship for good. He wished he would of known then the catastrophic consequences that day would end up having.

Memories from that day wrapped around him like the tight curl of a snake…

 

5 months prior….

“Cmon Yamcha, the day is so early, let’s go out and have some fun! Maybe take a car ride? Or how about some shopping and lunch?” Bulma leaned her soft weight into him on the plump beige couch of the Briefs home her full creamy bust pressing out of her top and spilling onto his strong bicep as she gently caressed his arm with her fingers. It was early spring and most of the days were still a tad cool but today was warm and the sun was out, a foreshadowing of summer, he could tell Bulma was restless and wanted to spend the day doing something fun and watching him train definitely wouldn’t qualify as fun to the blue haired beauty.

Yamcha had been deliberating about training for the remainder of the day, but after taking a lemonade break with his girlfriend he was tempted to just call it a day and hang out with her instead. She was beautiful and very tempting indeed.  
“I don’t know babe, I really should be focused on training. I gotta keep ya safe ya know.” He said throwing back another gulp of the cool liquid and only half meaning his words. He honestly wasn’t very interested in training lately. His thoughts kept going back to the other night at the bar, he had met a super cute brunette. 

Interrupting his thoughts Bulma said “That’s sweet Yamcha, but taking a day off won’t change anything.” Her demeanor became a little huffy, she crossed her arms and pouted at him. “Besides Vegeta has been doing nothing but training, enough training for everyone and he seems in such a bad mood all the time. And by that I mean all work and no play will make Yamcha a dull boy.” She teased lightly. 

He hated when she talked about the Prince even if it was just in passing, it annoyed him in a almost violent way. The fact that she even let him live here after he had gotten Yamcha basically killed on Namek crawled under his skin in the cruelest of ways. Furthermore it infuriated him how she would dote on the Prince, making him food, buying him clothing, working on the GR day in and day out to make sure Vegeta's demands were met. Then there was the fact that Yamcha was now forced to see him on an almost daily basis, he’d visit Bulma and then inevitably there was always a shirtless sweaty Sayian walking around. He had even begun to notice her eyeing him sometimes, it was always just for a moment, but the fact that she felt like there was something to look at in the first place irked him. He knew he was feeling a little jealous.  
Possibly a lot jealous. 

“Okay babe, let’s spend the day together, it will be nice.” He smiled at her and grabbed her hand giving the back of it a small kiss. Bulma smiled so big he immediately felt like he made the right choice, seeing her so happy was the best feeling. 

Bulma giddily hopped up from the couch and straightened her orange dress, it was short in length but the sleeves were long, she had a new hairstyle too, her luscious blue locks were permed and now defied surrendering to gravity, exploding from her head like a beehive, only to be tamed and held back from her face with dark blue headband. Her new hairstyle wasn’t his favorite look on her but she was beautiful no matter what. Yamcha stood up mirroring the woman. Bulma’s blue eyes locked onto the handsome face of the scarred warrior, both were silent as he slid his fingers between hers, he began to lean down and was fully intending to kiss his beautiful girlfriend when the ground shook and rumbled violently beneath their feet. Immediately a loud explosion in a scary close proximity followed causing both of them to jump slightly, losing their balance the kiss was lost and their fingers naturally uncurled from each others. Wasting not a second Bulma ran to the back door, Yamcha right on her heels. 

The GR was no longer standing, nothing but a huge pile of smoking debris lay in its place. Bulma screamed again at the sight, running to the smoldering remains of one of her greatest inventions she started calling out for Vegeta. 

“Bulma stop! It’s not safe! Come back!” Yamcha yelled out running behind her. Either she didn’t hear him or she completely ignored him, knowing his girlfriend he assumed it was the latter. Bulma was by then crawling over the debris half sobbing and half yelling for the Prince. Yamcha had never seen her so distraught. Was she this upset when he had died? 

Was Vegeta actually possibly dead? He sorta hoped so. 

“Vegeta please!” She screamed throwing any sized wreckage she was capable of lifting out of the way in her desperate attempt to find and save the Prince. Suddenly and with immortal ferocity a bloody arm shot up and out of the rubble soon followed by the even more bloodied body of Vegeta himself. He obviously could barely stand, his weight wavering on unsteady legs, but it didn’t matter because Bulma was by his side in a second trying to help him. 

“Yamcha hurry go! Alert the medical staff we have a huge emergency!! Go now! GO!” She yelled to him. Doing as he was bid he hurriedly left to find help, he could hear the woman in the growing distance between them yelling at Vegeta about how he almost blew up the house and about how he better not die on her. By the time he came back a few minutes later she was still hobbling across the lawn with Vegeta’s arm over her shoulder and having barely made 100 feet of progress, her arm wrapped around his waist. Yamcha to this day was still surprised her petite frame wasn’t collapsing under the weight of the Saiyan. Her adrenaline must really have been pumping he guessed. As much as he loathed the Prince and would rather see his dead body limp and pale on the lawn that day he figured it would be in good taste to help Bulma carry him to the house. Helping to lift the Prince, he supported most of Vegeta’s weight, the Prince was bleeding everywhere, all over the pretty green grass, on Bulma and now all over him, ‘Great’ thought Yamcha, ‘another shirt ruined…’

 

Several hours had passed and Vegeta now occupied a empty guest room. A hospital bed that the Briefs had brought up was refuge to the body of a badly damaged Prince, he was hooked up to machines that beeped and printed off continuous monitored data read outs of his vital signs, he was bandaged across most of his body and lay unconscious and had been since he had collapsed just feet before they got to the house. What Yamcha couldn’t get over was how upset Bulma had been and clearly still was. The Sayian was going to be fine the doctor said, so why was she still so worried, why was she still crying silently to herself at his bedside?

“We still have time Bulma, the days not over, let’s go out and try to enjoy the rest of it.” He was leaning against the door frame of Vegeta’s temporary and make shift hospital room, hands deep in his pockets, trying not to look annoyed, even so he was sure he wasn’t doing a very good job of it. Bulma sat in a uncomfortable looking chair that was angled and close to the bed.

Her face snapped up annoyed for only a moment to look at him, then as if reality was water it washed over her and she looked back down at her knees, and in a almost shy voice said “Yamcha I’m not going anywhere, not now. Vegeta needs someone here. What if he wakes up?” Her voice was a whisper and trembling as she tried to hide her extreme concern from her boyfriend. 

“Your mother is here, AND a whole team of trained doctors and nurses, he’ll be fine.” 

“Yamcha, no. I’m staying.” Her voice now unexpectedly very firm, confidence lacing around each word. Her eyes had a steadfastness to them that he was all to familiar with. When Bulma made up her mind, she really made up her mind. 

Immediately knowing a battle lost Yamcha resigned and snapped at her, “Fine Bulma.” His tone beginning to have a cutting edge. “Just remember he will never love you! And he will never be grateful for you, not for any amount of things you do for him. He despises you, your world, and everything you love. I’m going to be leaving now, call me when you care enough to spend time with your ACTUAL boyfriend.”  
With that he left, not giving her even a moment or a chance to respond. He walked along the Briefs long and circular hallways at a brisk pace noting that the farther he got from the room he just left, the farther he got from Bulma and their whole crumbling relationship. Trying to fight back the sad feeling that followed him to the front door, and the sharp realization that she hadn’t come after him yet, deflated that she seemed to care far more about Vegeta’s physical pain and not nearly enough about his emotional pain. Walking now more slowly to his sports car secretly hoping he'd hear her footsteps behind him he slide into the drivers side, a deep and heavy pain in his chest, the leather of the seat was warm from the midday springtime sun. Putting the car into gear and not even waiting till he had fully left the Briefs property he dialed the number he got from that cute brunette he met a few days prior.

 

Present day…  
The memory still hurt, he purposefully hadn’t thought about it more than necessary. That day had changed a lot of things for Yamcha and Bulma. He was starting to realize now that he was the one who was out of line. He may have been jealous of Bulma’s concern for the Prince but he also knew that caring was just in Bulma’s character, she was a genuinely caring person. He could of handled his emotions better, and now he wished he had. No sense however dwelling on the past to much, he couldn’t change it, and their relationship was ultimately broken at that time so instead now he was going to change himself. Throwing away the old and bloodstained shirt he finished packing quickly suddenly more desperate than ever to get going. 

Without delay he found himself and his furry blue friend upon his shoulder, they stood in the entryway and looked back at the apartment, he had no idea how long he was going to be gone for but why worry about minor details like that right now, he had two years until the androids arrived and he wasn’t going to waste another minute. Locking up he turned his face to Puar, then both having the same thought they decided it would be a good idea to make a stop at Kame House and catch up with Krillin and Master Roshi before heading into solitude. He slung his old gray duffle bag over a shoulder and with Puar still lightly resting on his other, they both without another glance back left. The trash left out waiting to be taken for good.

 

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Vegeta swallowed a mouthful of orange juice, cold chicken and blood. He was looking into the face of a young beautiful blue eyed blue haired woman. His mouth hurt ferociously bad, he was starting to believe he had knocked out a tooth accidentally, despite everything his mouth kept erupting in blood every few seconds. But other than the annoying taste of iron he wasn’t worried, he had been far more injured in the past, this was just a slightly more inconvenient injury, it ruined the taste of food. 

“Vegata??? Can you hear me? I asked you question.” Bulma said from across the kitchen. He noticed she was leaning over the counter lazily with her chin resting in the palm of one hand. Her eyes were wide but her face looked bored, her scent however told him so much more. He ripped off a huge mouthful of chicken and watched her wince at this movement but not change her position. She was wearing a plain white t shirt that was low cut, her leaning weight over the counter caused her cleavage to show and it was generous and phenomenal. Other than looking a little sleepy she glowed just by doing nothing it seemed. Vegeta was aware that she seemed to know this about herself and it irritated the fuck out of him. Her scent screamed of sexual arousal. He noticed her nipples were hard under her thin cotton shirt. 

“Of course I can hear you, in spite of that however I have no desire to wait for your shitty cooking, I’m doing just fine.” Still he didn’t turn away from her. 

“Ya know even though I offered to cook for you, that’s not why I’m really here.” She spoke softly with a sultry air encompassing each word. Standing up straight she walked slowly around the edge of the island countertop, her delicate fingertips trailing teasingly on the counters cold slick surface behind her as she kept intense eye contact. She felt she was challenging Vegeta in someway, and from the fierce look he was giving back he could tell she was too. 

It wouldn’t take a genius to asses the situation and know that Bulma wanted a very particular itch scratched, and she seemingly had a idea about who she wanted to scratch it. Honestly he was a little tired of her company, he felt like he’d spent more time around her in the past 48 hours than he had ever previously. Other than the sex, he wasn’t particularly interested. But if she was just looking for sex, he could probably accommodate her, she was the first female he had ever genuinely enjoyed physically, well enjoyed as more than just a brief sweet release. Admittedly he could do it again. Plus she looked pretty. He threw the remains of the chicken carcass into the sink at his side with a sickening thud as hit hit the wall of the basin. He wiped his mouth with the back of a white gloved hand. Pieces of meat and blood smeared on the pristine white making for an intense contrast of color. He quickly contemplated their conversation from the night prior, she called him her ‘boyfriend’, well actually to be accurate he had accepted this "title" as a way to keep other males away but still didn’t remotely understand what he had agreed to. He just knew he absolutely wouldn’t tolerate another’s smell on her. For some odd reason. 

“Fine. Woman come here then!” He gestured with a open palm to her, chicken, blood and all beckoning her presence closer. 

“Wh-what?” Bulma yet again fumbled with her words, despite her own sexual advances she was taken off guard by what felt like initially a odd change of subject, she stopped moving to the Prince confused as to what he actually wanted. He never made things easy. 

Then like the speed of light her ass was grabbed by large firm hands and her visual perspective changed as she was suddenly lifted and plopped on the counter, dark eyes made eye contact with her blue ones. She could smell him and it was utterly spellbinding, she knew with him this close there was no way she could be in control of anything. 

Vegeta felt her hands grip his biceps as he simultaneously placed her perfect round ass on the countertop. He hated that he secretly liked how her touch felt, he hated that it was so easy to forget how good it felt when she didn’t touch him, and he hated how deeply he fell into her when she actually did touch him…  
He wished she wasn’t real at that moment, she felt like the truest weakness....  
Each of their eyes had already found the others, even with touch being the current factor he had still found her eyes first, before anything else, and most importantly she hadn’t yet shied away from giving them to him. Her chest was heaving now, her breath indicated excitement in its rapidness. Without meaning to he found his own breathing and heartbeat beginning to match hers. With hands gripping the plumpness of her ass and his gaze upon a face more perfect than he realized could exist, or more accurately that he bothered to notice before he found himself becoming undone. Control was slipping away the same way the sun slipped away at sunset, there was nothing he could do. He had never experienced such lack of control, well more honestly a lack that he ashamedly wanted. 

He wanted her so bad.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That was a long one. Whew!
> 
> I'm sorry if any readers feel I am moving slowly. I won't lie, I LOVE their story and I enjoy all the possible pockets of interaction and intimacy that they may have shared. Everything and all of it. 
> 
> I feel it's accurate to believe Vegeta is unfamiliar with intimacy and even more so the importance of even possibly having a mate at all. Vegeta's years of being raised by Frieza caused even more confusion around the subject of trusting someone enough to let them love him. I never felt he could reconcile this easily and that both him and Bulma would struggle with its repercussions.


End file.
